PMD: Dolls of Gods, Dynasties over Monstrosities
by Akiyama-64
Summary: When Larkin brought justice to a friend of superhumans, they forced him into an experiment. Mass cop killer Terrell, and others went to this pokémon world, too. These foreign forces threaten to bring East and West under tyranny while Larkin finds his strength through loss and friendship.
1. Prologue: This Job Sucks Now

****Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Dolls of God, Dynasties over Monstrosities; Arc 1: Brothers in Distress****

_Dedicated for Mom: you inspire me to do so much._

__"You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist." ___—_ Friedrich Nietzsche

**Prologue: This Job Sucks Now**

"Took ya long enough, Lincoln." A black furred lucario paw patted the back of a man's gray jacket. "Now, don't you want to say bye to Terrell?" the black clothed two-legged being swept his mightyena tail side to side.

"I do, Blackcade, but you." He leaned his orange polarized glasses and nose over his neck, "Smell." He retreated his head and walked forward onto the steel floor with his hands held behind his back. "Can't you use your normal form? You always smell like a dog." That lucario hybrid froze as if in surprise from having his friend repelled from his normal scent.

"What's with you, scarface?" Blackcade crossed his arms and followed him. Lincoln lowered his head and put his hands in his pockets. A flash emitted from a giant glass wall on the left, and he observed a human practicing lightning bolts from within a football stadium sized room. It was just another being like the two of them training."And why complain about me?"

"If you're going to smell like a dog here, then you should fulfill your duty like one." He raised his hand and pointed at Blackcade. "I had to kill one hundred Unovans attacking my forest because those army arsonists interrupted my meeting. So tell me." He pressed his glasses to his black scarred forehead. "Where were you?"

"He was filming my final manifesto." A young man with flakes of blood covering his skin, coat, and pants shuffled up to them.

Lincoln waved at him, signaling the mere human to shut up. "So it seems." Lincoln shoved Blackcade's chest spike sticking through his black coat. "But I'm not concerned about their society. Ramsey's death is a catalyst for the experiment and our tools of justice. And this young man should have already entered his chamber."

Blackcade turned his face to the side and lowered it. His shoulders raised as if preparing to stick his paws forward and shove back, but he restrained himself. "I'm sorry, I was too interested in his story to check what the alarm meant to interrupt the broadcast."

Lincoln smiled, raising the lower end of his integral symbol shaped scar. He slapped his shoulder and turned to walk down the kilometer long, underground, wide hallway of steel, windows leading to fields, and LED lights. "Follow us, Terrell."

Lincoln simmered in his thoughts while walking. Blackcade could have flown there and stopped the flames, but, no, Lincoln had to run there and burn his shoes and fine wool clothes. At least that one officer had a good jacket, shirt, and pants. The jacket had a hole in it since he ripped the Unovan army logo off, stuffed it in that leader's mouth, and dragged his half naked self to the experiment. All their shoes smelled awful though, so Lincoln went barefoot.

Still, his feet clanked on the floor despite how they seemed to be flesh.

"So... what's the experiment?" Terrell asked.

Lincoln turned around and looked at the kid's brown mustache. His brown hair still had moss and grass tangled in it, and his camouflage pants and jacket was covered in mud. Lincoln walked backwards, stayed silent, and focused his eyes on the dried blood covering his arms and hands.

Terrell looked at his own arms. "Too much for you?"

"No, it's related," he said, stopping. _Ah, right_, he thought, _I haven't done this in a while_. "May I lick your left hand?"

"What? No,"

Blackcade nudged him roughly and coughed into a paw.

Lincoln stepped forward and Terrell stopped. He still shook his head, so Lincoln sighed and crossed his arms. He was a foot taller than Terrell, and he abused it by walking around the little man to flex his muscles proudly through his jacket.

"Huh, what are you doing?" Terrell stepped away when Lincoln's breath crept down the back of his neck. He raised his arms up, perhaps readying himself to push Lincoln back. But it was too late.

Some of that blood rubbed onto Lincoln's jacket, and he licked it off. "I was enjoying my enemies' submission." He didn't like the taste, but it was so dominating to know the people who owned that blood were dead now. "As for the experiment, we want to know how you play with others. Especially like those you killed."

"Kinda creepy." Terrell put a finger to his chin. "Still, you have your ways. I know what Larkin did to you, and other cops have behaved similarly around my circle." He stared at the orange glasses as if checking for emotion. "So, uh..."

"I didn't meant to make you uncomfortable. You look like you've went through enough." Lincoln smiled and somewhat regretted not being on camera with Terrell. "But tell me, what are these cops?"

Blackcade turned his head towards Terrell. "Yes, who are they?"

Terrell's eyes widened and he raised his chin. "Well, let's just call them the dominant gang—mafia of Unova."

"Ah." Lincoln nodded. "So Unova still has a king? Two kings?"

Terrell shook his head and pointed down the hall. "I see you two don't get out much..." He sighed. "I'll try to explain it, but it seems I have somewhere to be soon." He rubbed the back of his head and looked out of a window. "You know, I don't think I would get out much if I had all the stuff down here."

Lincoln chuckled and patted Terrell's shoulder, causing him to jerk in surprise. "Let's get you to the other nice candidates and serve tea—"

"Uh, people drink coffee now."

"How did Unova get coffee?"

Terrell facepalmed and shook his head. "Tea it is."

Blackcade and Lincoln laughed, then escorted Terrell forward. Since Terrell stayed silent and faced away from them, they pointed at the windows to show off the sports fields, gardens, museums, long lost historical treasure, and many other things that Lincoln collected in his boredom. Their success came when this left the human's face astonished, but Lincoln assured him these trivial things were nowhere close to a real achievement.

In the next hour, Lincoln watched Blackcade force each criminal into the pods, one-by-one, and they screamed so good for his ears when those black paws handcuffed their limbs inside the pods. As for the ones that wanted to be there, it was as elegant as stepping onto a private jet. Lincoln even convinced Blackcade to wear a flight attendant suit and tie in white.

Terrell and the others probably found it strange that they would become pokémon, but the encouragement of Lincoln and Blackcade assured him this was a real achievement to volunteer for.

Not every human entered that world in pokémon form right away, but reports flooded out to observers. Despite a massive war, the candidates survived, and many found that combat interesting. To Lincoln, that bored him because he knew his designs would survive a pitiful war by the legendaries. However, two years after the experiment started, Habersack, the designer, told of events such as the one blow that finally contradicted his expectations. _Finally_, he thought, _We're going to see the bad suffer, the good conquer_.

* * *

"Oh, Ver, by the way, I got promoted." The luxray stood her head straight up with a smirk.

"That's nice, Pascal."

She winked at him and strolled towards the right side of the job board. She always took that side, and so did that salamence, haxorus, and all the other big-shots.

She held up a paper slip in her paw at him, and walked to the ladder of the underground base. Ver shrugged, keeping his mind on what the left side of the board would offer. One aron jumped up and grabbed a job posting with his steel mouth. Of course, this tore the paper in half, so his teammate, a bulbasaur used a vine to pull off the rest. They chuckled at each other and put the two halves together.

"Ohh, berry collection, good one, Steely." Their faces went from smiles to straight faces as soon as a shadow overcasted them.

To Ver's left, another haxorus entered the room and blocked the window of the mountain base. He cleared his throat and the pair of young pokémon ran to the exit after a brief bow to him. He exchanged a smile with an ampharos on the right side of the board. He glared at Ver afterwards. His shadow darkened the brown clay walls and the white papers of the bulletin board.

"Yes, Major Greg, sir...?"

Greg turned his head up towards the ceiling, which had some week-old pasta on it due to a food fight, and he huffed.

He tossed him a folded piece of paper and Ver caught it. "I saw you eyeing that togepi escort mission, you weak fire-chicken." He crossed his arms and almost slashing the board with his axe tusks. Ver cringed at the insult to his blaziken form, but he opened the paper and sighed. He opened his mouth, but Greg talked over him, "Quiet. All you do is train, buff up like some beach boy, and show off on easy missions. I demand that you do this mission and only missions from the right side from now on, or get out."

"Greg, sir, I just..."

"Just what?" He tilted his head and tapped his feet. "Just not man enough to take down a fugitive?"

The shame hit him when everyone went quiet, except for snickering and muffled jokes about ladies others have seen him with.

Greg the Haxorus walked away and put his claws behind his back, holding them like an aristocrat under his blue scarf. He went to the cafeteria side of the room, ordered some metagross to let him cut in, and then ordered that metagross to bring his tray to the officer table. Yep, only the officers got to sit at a purple and gold table with cushioned seats and stools. Right now, Pascal probably stuck her tongue out at all the maggots left to sit on hard, barely fitting wooden chairs, tables, and stools.

_Huh, maybe that's why some others left_, he thought, then he turned his head away when that bulbasaur pointed his vines at Ver and snickered. _This is so immoral, but that bulbasaur is ticking me off_.

Ver thought about tearing off his blue scarf, but the impulse left him when he read the job: "Escaped aggron. Proven threat to society. Please capture and..."

_Maybe this won't be so bad, maybe I can find the legitimate bounties all the time_, he thought. Of course, Ver shuddered when he recalled that Pascal praised everyone who broke their own government's law in order to smuggle hemp and cannabis out East. She even wore a gold necklace due to the funds.

And in the next breath, she praised those who captured small time smugglers doing the same. Such things never happened in the East.

A few hours later, he was running down a path surrounded by birch trees, avoiding the wagon wheel trenches in the dirt, when some large footprints caught his attention. They crossed the road, going to a hole in the brush. _Those are aggron prints, and that's a steel tail slap on that tree's bark_, he thought, clenching his fists.

No other wild pokémon smashed down ferns like this thing did, but Ver didn't expect the aggron to continue up a hill, down a valley, over a stream, and up another hill. These pokémon were meant to be slow.

Below him, another stream flowed. _Thank goodness I haven't encountered a mystery dungeon_, he thought, knowing that suddenly appearing in a desert cavern could happen in the wild by surprise and dry off his dampened feathers.

"Oh my gosh," he said to himself, "How is this fat pile of iron going so far? Is he seriously going up and down all one hundred cycles of hills and valleys?" _Maybe I'll have a partner again after __this_, he thought, desiring someone to mirror his disdain of a chase. Perhaps even someone to clean the stinging nettles off his feathers before he itched them off.

He heard a snap and rocks falling below him. He quieted his steps and pulled a green orb from his backpack. Finally, his heart raced and it wasn't because of a hike or some dang bird swooping down on him. He ran downwards, twirled around a tree, and tackled the aggron from behind. That mass of rock and steel fell forward with a yelp and Ver punched and grabbed his neck to imitate the struggle.

Thanks to the blur of speed and leaves going by, he wasn't ready to see himself falling down a cliff. This was going to hurt, but at least he had done worse jumps before.

"Oh Arceus!" the aggron said.

"You're under arrest." Ver clenched the orb tight while his other arm strangled him.

His arms flailed and he screamed again, "This is not funny, Ver!" With the forest almost reaching them, Ver shut his eyes and clenched as hard as he could on the pokémon. If he let go, there would only be a pile of rock and blood left of this fugitive. _Wait, am I that well known?_ he thought, aiming to let the steel beast flatten all the tree limbs on the trajectory.

_Crash!_ The tree branches slapped them and pulled many of Ver's feathers off his body. The fall ended with a lot of cracking and a thud that spit dirt and rock all over the tree trunks next to him. A flash surrounded his closed eyes.

Ver coughed, rolled out of the dust cloud, and grit his beak shut. "Damn it! My arm." A large tree limb cracked and fell on Ver's face with his eyes closed. "Now that's just annoying." The limb knocked him down again, but, honestly, he could benchpress a tree. He opened his eyes, slapped the tree part off, and looked at the green orb.

It now glowed, and the aggron's face looked at him and said, "Why did you pearl me? I'm Toby, your friend."

That dark gray steel face... it really was him, so he asked, "Well, why are you a danger to society then?"

"Me? Are you joking? I was carrying goods through the wild to give to customers, and then some pokémon attacked me like you did, and I fought back. Ended up in a prison camp, and I broke out by surprising my pearl holder." He laughed. "If you don't let me out, I'm going to tell everyone here what you did."

At first Ver widened his eyes into his cobalt ones in shock, and he searched his mind for some way to justify all the sweat he put onto the hills today.

"I dunno, maybe you killed an innocent."

"Ver, I raised you! You will take me to the arbitrator in Low Plains Town today."

"Toby, that would invalidate—"

"You will be an outlaw in the East if you put me back in that damn prison camp."

_See, I knew it was a bad idea to take a job from that side of the board_, he thought, sighing. His first thought was about all the girls he wouldn't be with if he went east. Of course, a look into Toby's eyes struck him. No female, and no gold coin had stayed longer than a month with Ver. However, Toby was there since his first memories.

Clearly, Pascal was going to hunt him for this later.

"Fine, let's go east." Ver said, looking up at the clouds to the north. Rain would likely come soon. Ver groaned in pain, brushed dirt off of his arm wounds and Toby sighed. "Why did you have to come here, Toby?"

"And why the heck are you here?"

* * *

**Author's Notes**

lucariodarkness745 of DA made a ton of comments and edits for this when he beta-read this prologue. Excellent work.

Dragoonvulpi of DA later assisted on this prologue.

If you have not played Pokémon Mystery Dungeon's first two games, you really should play them. Doing so is not needed because this story will use a different setting from the games while taking lots of inspiration from my experience with them.

If you're observant, you'll probably notice something which exists in the background of the games and in this fanfiction, but is not mentioned in any PMD fanfiction that I've read so far. Actually, it's a little more prominent in this story since I need its services, and I developed it with the help of many people. It's so obvious that you won't see it. You have plenty of time to think about it because this fan fic will have a lot of chapters, so, eventually, you will see it.

Also, I plan to revise chapters a lot based on the input from reviewers. I want to get better so that this story can see justice. Hit it hard and form it into a good sword. I also promise that I will review your own works if you review mine.

The Boring Copyright Notice

There can only be one way for Nintendo to stop me from writing... a lawsuit. It's true that anything I write is automatically copyrighted without some mention of opt-out, however, in an utter insanity of law, one could sue me if they take my characters and use them in some real novel if there is no claim to original characters and other materials not "owned" by Nintendo or others. Besides, it would be inconsistent with this fan fiction to claim anything else about copyright. What? You wanted some "I don't claim to own Pokémon"? Of course I don't own it, silly.

Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International is my chosen license where possible to apply for this story. All you need to do to use anything in this work is put me (and you should ask for my real name) in the credits while saying what license I use. This means absolutely anyone can do anything with this work, even sell books of it or do any other commercial activity.

Thanks Satoshi Tajira and all the other workers of the glorious Pokémon franchise for all their hard work. Shin-ichiro Tomie and Emiko Tanaka (the writers of PMD 1 and 2) and others at Chusoft have my thanks as well for producing two of the most worthwhile games in my life.

Political Disclaimer

This was being written before Eric Garner died. Also, don't assume I'm a citizen of the USA.


	2. Chapter 1: Eight Years Later

**Chapter 1: Eight Years Later**

"Whatever you do, don't burn the harness, Larkin." Ver patted the monferno on the head after finishing the last knot.

"If this works, you're the best blaziken ever." He adjusted the itchy ropes around his orange fur.

Ver prepared the kite and flapped the canvas open upon the dirt road. In front, a flareon and espeon giggled and leaned forward, readying to make a monkey fly.

"Hey, monferno, are you a kid?" the espeon said, swaying her head back as if to check on a newborn.

"No."

"Adult speed it is." She flipped her head forward and jiggled the lead bars strapped to her back. She patted her sister and both of the weight covered eeveelutions jumped forward.

"Wait what?" Too late.

Ver smirked and watched the rushing siblings pull Larkin into the air with only a few flaps of the canvas sending the screaming monkey up for a trip around Meadow Bowl. Some time later, his screams turned into an "ooh yeah," and then he left earshot. By now, he had ascended above the ridges that literally made this a town sit within a bowl. With almost no clouds and a vast dry prairie hill-scape over the slopes of the hole that Ver stood in, this was the best way to distract Larkin. Maybe he would even admire the mountains to the west, which nobody should go over.

"Well, Owen the Sandslash, what do you think of him so far?" Ver asked the pokémon sitting behind him.

"He could be a good fit, but I can't believe he went from running a fourteen minute mile to seven in a week by simply farming."

Ver shrugged and sat beside him. Meanwhile, rhyhorns laughed and pushed a rhydon who was shoved in a barrel.

"Bros, you said—you said it was a short trip." He rolled along in the barrel with dust trailing behind.

While Ver didn't know why they came here, it was probably because they half buried some random town with sand out East. Such stupidity after a drunk night with friends put a lot of pokémon here while they work and pay reparations. _Man, the mine must be on break for them to be doing such stupid stuff_.

Many shop stall owners sighed and continued selling potions, berries, and corn. If it weren't for how every stall looked like the products they sold, the pokémon head houses wouldn't be fitting. It was kind of shame that the buildings had plain, undecorated stone, clay, or brick colored walls though.

"Anyway, for goodness sake, take the monkey out of my care."

"And do what?"

"Train him. You'll see."

"No, I see what happened, you got with an infernape and—"

"That's a fully mature monferno and you know I've only been here about ten years, and he's... he's here from three weeks ago." Ver put his face in his palm and shook his head.

Owen crossed his arms and leaned in to whisper, "Evidence?"

"He walked heels-first and he still can't squat with his heels on the ground."

Owen nodded and leaned his head away. Then he asked if this was just a monferno faking it.

"He didn't realize he had opposable toes until last week. Look, Toby can attest."

_Of course, maybe he's a fake elite pokémon... and I don't want to be around when that monkey's illusion breaks, _he thought, recalling the capacity of the enemy to do such a stunt. Whatever, Toby told him to do this, so he did it. His mind already wandered to the missions to do and pokémon to play with once this chore was finished.

"Fine, a week of probation, then I may let him in—what the hell is he doing?" Owen pointed up and what Ver saw made him clench his fists. Larkin set fire to the harnesses. "He's doing it on purpose! What an ass!" Owen slammed his claws on the ground and jumped up.

_Now I'm stuck again with him!_

The kite flew into the sky, and Larkin flailed his arms and legs around. Too far away for Ver to jump and rescue.

* * *

Larkin's fall was going too far from the ponds of water he aimed for. Best hope he had were the irrigation ditches for Kangaskhan's tomato and beans garden, which had plenty of sharp sticks poking out of the ground to support vegetables and his potential corpse.

"Ah, help!" Everyone in town looked at him, and even the rhyhorns stopped rolling and froze in helplessness. Larkin closed his eyes, but only had flashbacks of the brief stay on that farm and the week long trip to this small town. His heart rate kicked his chest over and over. He felt a cool aura encase him and he didn't feel wind blowing by anymore. Still, he couldn't move.

He opened his eyes and found himself in front of the espeon who had kicked off her weights.

"There's a problem—"

"Why did you do that! That fall would have killed you, weakling."

Larkin pointed to the western side of the bowl the town sat in and yelled, "There is an army bigger than this town out there. They don't seem nice."

She shoved his forehead close to her purple and white eyes and made him jerk back in surprise. A red glow encompassed his face. Meanwhile, many pokémon around him muttered that he may be right. He wouldn't dropped out of the sky for nothing. A few ran eastward, and a baltoy levitated up the ridges.

Her eyes seemed focused inside of his head. However, she dropped her mouth as if the kite hit her. "Why can't I read you?"

"What? Look, I doubt those guys are here for tea." He tried pushing her away before she did any more freaky psychic stuff, and she replied by slapping him with her tail and running off with her sister.

His face landed in the dirt and he rubbed his head while cursing her for that hit. Her footsteps ran away, and he no longer heard her.

Larkin lifted his head up and saw bright white, pink, and then green flashes on the houses, road, and brown rocks of the slopes.

"That baltoy just used Signal Beam! It's true!" someone yelled.

Pokémon around them spread what they heard and they soon rushed out of their houses carrying one bag or two. Even the stall owners ran eastward.

"Where the hell was the sentry!" More shouts came and doors slammed open with a cascade of pokémon sprinting out. In front of him, a shiftry and a crying lotad passed.

Larkin's head jerked around, watching them run. He brushed off the dirt on his fur and started standing up, but a headache from that espeon's hit almost made him fall over.

"Pappa, why we leaving?" the small water and grass-type said, but the father continued kicking up the dirt on the road while the eastern road up and out of town filled up with runners. Even a tepig left abandoned his stir-fry stall, letting the pan burn like the town would.

When Larkin finally stood up, the kangaskhan in the hut next to the garden stomped up to him. Something else landed next to him.

"I've got him, hurry along," Ver said, and the larger pokémon trampled away.

Larkin looked up and saw the rhydon roll on by. He struggled and screamed for help, but the barrel simply wouldn't crack enough.

"Larkin, move it! I'll help soon." Ver tapped his back, and he ran east.

One glance back showed Ver slamming the barrel with Focus Punch over and over, but only one plank broke each time. Larkin turned forward, but he noticed everyone else outrunning him no matter how much will he put in his legs. It didn't help that he almost fell forward thanks to others passing and nicking his fur with their leaves, scales, or fur.

Even with Larkin's sprint, that kangaskhan gained a fifty meter lead. No matter how hard he breathed, he couldn't get his legs to move as fast as the primal surge in his gut told him to. He passed house after house. His vision clouded up and he couldn't make out what the house shapes were.

_How the heck are they all so fast?_ Larkin thought, holding one hand tightly to his stomach. He had to slow down, the cramp almost made him tumble forward after so much distance. However, he had a fourth of the town to pass yet.

"Aww, is that the best you have, monkey?"

He turned to his side and jumped away in surprise at seeing a luxray's blue fur brushing along his own.

"Then get me out of here."

The feminine voice spoke again, "Oh, sorry, I'm from that eastern army, but you'll be a good slave, teaboy." She grinned and twelve clones of her surrounded Larkin. "What a cute face. I'm racing around you sixteen times a second and you can't do anything." All of the clones adjusted a blue scarf on their necks and stepped closer.

"What the?" Larkin raised his fists when they stepped forward again, but she only moved faster towards him. _Crap, crap!_ he thought, spinning his head around to see if that blaziken would show his red feathers. "You better stay… stay back!"

She snickered, stuck her tongue out, and toed closer.

His fists flowed with flames out of a survival instinct forcing his hands to do something against these much larger predators before him. She seemed so confident to him, and that made his tail and arms twitch. Still, he was not going to be someone's slave.

"Go away."

They stepped again, and he lunged forward with a punch and went straight through an illusion.

"What the?"

"I always win the race ahead of my army." She slapped a half of a watermelon in his grip and said, "I like you, so stay there while I clear this street, slow-mo." She petted him with her padded feet and chilled him with a strange shock disabling his tail.

While she ran off, Larkin realized his legs fell asleep. They were more rigid than glass, and his balance was just as fragile. "Hey! I can't move!"

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at him, then scanned each house. "Please, start crawling. I'd love to see you grovel."

Of course, he tried tensing his legs and tail as much as he could, but there was nothing down there. Just cold iron legs. He wasn't about to lose his dignity by crawling under her, either.

_Damn her,_ he thought, but in the meantime he took a bite from the melon. "At least this tastes good."

She pivoted her head all around the houses, but then looked down. Her eyes glowed yellow. "Huh, underground tunnels." She poked her paw at the dirt.

Something scooped him up and he found himself cradled and flying over the village's red, orange, and white rooftops. The sudden force from the jump punched him in the gut and forced the fruit out of his hands.

He smirked and looked behind Ver's arms at the luxray's growling face coming up empty.

"You idiot." He sighed. They landed, and the same punch hit Larkin's stomach again. They jumped again, missing a thunderbolt that shoved through the buildings like a rail flying out of a cliff. It thundered and expanded into a web of white before leaving only its deafening boom.

They landed at the top of the eastern ridge.

Larkin shouted, "She's keeping up!" His ears rang from the boom, and he could hardly hear himself.

"Hold on." He dropped him for a moment and freed his body from the backpack. Then he crunched him against his chest and sprinted east but away from the escaping townspokémon.

They descended towards the eastern ravine with the speed of a tumbling log. Indeed, Larkin felt shocked that Ver could run this fast down such a steep slope. However, crossing a crack that could fit all of Meadow Bowl's houses in it felt stupid.

_Oh no,_ he thought, _I have to fly again. Wait! Maybe he's going down?._ Near the edge, just when Larkin feared for a crazy escape in the rapids below, Ver jumped.

Larkin felt a bomb blast inside him. He wanted so badly to puke, but there hadn't been anything in him since last night's dinner of apple rat stew. Mesas and dry grass spread far below him and he looked at the blue sky enveloping above him.

With his stomach settling, he felt oddly comfortable seeing the distant white foam of water and the sharp ridges known to crush every bone of a pokémon.

Surprisingly, the luxray gazed towards the other side, taking her focus off of them. She halted at the edge of the ravine, and didn't even bother charging another thunderbolt to fry them or the grass and arid rocks around her.

On the destination side, Larkin noticed a black mass standing between dried green and brown shrubs on the edge. Gravity pulled them down towards it, and Larkin noticed its shape matched Ver's, but it had black cloth layered on its legs, torso, and head.

He noticed the object was directly in his landing path. "He's here?" Ver said, frustration hitting his voice. Too late to change his velocity's direction, he turned his whole body around to have his back face whatever that was, and landed a second later on top of its forehead. Larkin's small bag flung itself into tumbleweeds and against an orange-brown rock face.

This landing felt a lot softer to Larkin than the last one, mostly because Ver's belly cushioned him while the thing caught Ver and collasped, cutting grass off the dust like a bad lawn blade. He ripped Ver off of Larkin and nearly crushed Larkin's paws to hold him up.

"Ow, what the?" Larkin cringed and the figure jumped to his feet, holding him like a doll. His smell burned Larkin's nose like a fire-type never could experience: gastric acid and rotting food and flesh. It muttered something under its breath, a male voice.

As a trophy cape, he wore a poorly skinned zoroark's pelt that smelled of decay, but the neck collar of his coat smelled like someone vomited on him after he punched through their gut. Indeed, his paws and metal spike seemed like a lucario's, as did his feet, but they were clawed and rusty like a tarnished set of swords.

Larkin found identifying this pokémon or thing to be impossible once he noticed how he was taller than Ver, possessed a mightyena like tail, and had no facial features except for a muzzle tenting a cloth covering all of his face and head. His fur pushed from his clothes' openings as if he were a soiled brush.

At the ravine, the luxray retreated, picked up Ver's bag and sprinted away. _She's scared,_ Larkin thought, _Wait, I didn't think that. Whose voice is in my head?_

He noticed something seeping onto Larkin's hands. _Oh, Arceus, what the heck is that sticky shit on his paws?_ he thought,

_Watch your fucking mouth, monkey_.

_What the? Get out of my head before you stink it up!_

"Where have you been?" The monster walked towards the cliff. "Indeed, Larkin." He placed Larkin's paws on the cliff edge and let go.

Larkin instantly grabbed the cliff edge, dragging dirt and pebbles with him. Confusion and a sinking weight of fear dragged him closer to the roars of the water below. Thankfully, the wind blew from the side and kept most of the scent away, but it also shoved him away from the cliff.

The thing squatted and looked down at him. One claw tip brushed on the back of his hand.

"Who are you? How do you know me?" Larkin tried pulling up, feeling the claw-gunk stick where he marked. "What's your problem? Get me up!"

"Leave him alone, Blackcade," Ver said and Larkin recognized the hundred meters of rock wall below him. He had to get up, but what energy did he have left after that run? It was as if this thing slammed both fists into his lungs. His mind felt fuzzy with a strange mix of runner's high and panic. At least his legs could move again, but the rock wall felt too smooth.

"Shut your beak. If Larkin can't get up, then he dies."

This conversation really irritated Larkin. He was a test subject for a pull up. Surely he could do that!

He tugged and tugged but could not get any bend in his elbows. _Ah shit._

"Ha, see that? Come on, make a bet with me, Ver."

His lungs burned: He hadn't breathed for a while. Thus he gasped and hugged close to the wall and panted when another gust of wing pushed his sides. His muscles also stung with numbness for some time until the oxygen stopped him from losing his fingers' grip. _Come on! I gotta move!_

"You can't be serious. Just let me save him!"

"Ver, that's not a choice."

"Ver, help me, damn it!" Ver did not reply. "Why?" Larkin's belly slapped the wall. "Why aren't you helping me like the rhydon? I'm going to—"

"I'll cut your fingers off if you talk again."

He shut up, and looked around the cliff, hurrying to find a solution. _When I get up there, I'm punching both your nuts_. It seemed like this creature picked the worst possible spot for him because there weren't any rocks or plants sticking out like other areas.

Larkin noticed the stone wall his body touched. Smooth, but it could help. He placed his feet on the surface, only to slip and lose two of his fingers on the edge. That was when his heart shot as hard as it could, and his body tingled and shook. He got his two fingers back on. Again, he tried to gain footing, and he slipped. His vision completely narrowed to only his feet and his fingers and he breathed faster and faster. Blood flushed through his head and his ears drowned out all voices. He only heard a deep throbbing.

He either died or got up. No energy to think about the two above him.

Less force on his feet, the addition of his strange feet grabbing like his thumbs could, and everything else for the arms. He froze in place with his elbows nearing perpendicular. The unfamiliar movement forced its way through his shoulders and arms, cutting pain into his tendons. He screamed like a rock-type bench pressing a new record, and got his chin on the edge. Finally he threw his arms onto the surface and pulled.

"Ohh, I can smell the muscle ripping," Blackcade said, likely the only thing Larkin heard since being on the cliff. "But don't blame Ver, you're both pets to me." He turned and walked away.

Larkin rolled towards Ver. By the time he opened his eyes after panting and groaning, he could not find that stranger again with his fist. All Larkin found was a burning soreness that suddenly turned into elation and light weight. _Oh Arceus, I just, I just got out of that alive!_

He blacked out just before yelling for joy. A snap of Blackcade's thumbs echoed and Larkin couldn't see or talk. His hearing flooded with that same blood throbbing through him. His head crashed on the dirt.

The last words he heard were: "Oh, Arceus have mercy on you."

* * *

Ver ripped Larkin's monkey hands off of his shoulder and stood him on the dirt road. "This is Krauss the Feraligatr. You should work for him." Before the monferno objected, Ver spun around and walked away. "Now don't follow me."

That was the first time he spoke since Larkin woke up. That was weird because he didn't even talk about the weather or that Arceus forsaken invasion that happened yesterday! He had some nerve to end a month long trip by throwing him off and mumble nonsense about Meadow Bowl. Larkin wanted to flip him off, or pound his legs. It was no use though.

Pokémon shuffled by wagons, carts, and others. To top it off, a bipedal gator towered over him, letting his teeth glimmer in the sun like knives. As soon as Larkin looked away and stepped towards Ver, the large blue pokémon blocked the path with his claws. _Oh dear_, he thought, backing way from two red eyes approaching him.

He squatted down and rested his arms on his knees. "Toby sent ya, huh, Larkin?" A gold medallion engraved with a feraligatr's face dangled from his neck, shining sun onto the monferno's face. It was attached to an altaria styled collar on his neck.

"Yeah" He looked around the claws, and found only alfalfa bales on a wagon where Ver used to be. _That jerk must have jumped off_. He sighed, realizing he couldn't jump over five buildings like him. "But do you understand there was an attack yesterday?"

"That was one thing he whispered me about." When Larkin wondered what the other part of that secret conversation was, Krauss said, "And he told me about you." He raised his claws and rubbed his chin.

He wondered why that would be whispered. Introducing somebody should be done in full earshot. Of course! That sandslash and Ver were talking while he was flying, too. Whatever was going on, he knew that location failed fast, so he asked, "Why did Ver want me to work for you with all that's happening?"

"Ha!" He slapped his knee. "You really are ignorant of Sword's Guild, the fraternities, and Low Plains Town." He rested his hand on a sword's hilt wrapped to his waist. "Ten thousand of us against five hundred of them? You'll be fine. Also, Toby trusts me to help you out with janitor work."

How he glanced away and lost his smile hinted to Larkin that there was more to it. For now, he nodded and went along with his confidence. "Right, ten thousand, of course." He shrugged. "But what's janitor work got to do with anything? That's a silly job for _Ver _to get me in again."

"Calm down." He stood up. "I noticed Ver dumped you. He isn't worthy of attention—Toby is." He walked and motioned for Larkin to follow.

If only Toby had traveled here instead of that blaziken. Larkin futilely glanced around, finding none of the blaziken's feathers on the painted brick buildings around him, then jumped to the feraligatr's side. "Right. Sorry." A flame still rolled in his chest, telling him to swear, but he knew that would be annoying.

"And no, it wasn't Ver's idea. Oh—" A tyrogue shouted at Krauss to get him to buy top quality iron ore, but the water-type shook his head and walked away from the cart on the roadside. "—He wanted you in a guild, but that ex-elite doesn't appreciate hard work."

"Hmm?" Larkin scanned around, noticing a mural of a wigglytuff and azurill sipping tea in the sun beside a cave. In fact, every building had some sort of art on it: Many were plain coats of red, yellow, and such, but others were full designs up to chimchars hanging off the roof's tiles.

He turned towards him and shrugged. "Toby's ignorant. Guilds here have standards!" He flexed his bicep and slapped it. "And why do you want to be in one?"

"Well." He rubbed the back of his head. "He said I was talented, and that guilds are fun. "

"Talented my tail." He huffed. "Then again, which family are you from?"

"Can't you appreciate that I alerted Meadow Bowl before the attack?" He hid his grin and Krauss narrowed his eyes on him. "And family? I have no idea."

"Let's talk about Meadow Bowl later." He cleared his throat, thereby forcing Larkin to nod and hide his irritation. "And did you lose your memory?" His eyes perked up and his smile straightened out.

"I woke up under a coca tree. That's my earliest memory." When Krauss gazed down at him, he rolled his eyes to the side.

Krauss opened his mouth to speak, but directed his attention to an eevee peddling newspapers and sitting with an empty bowl in front of her. He nodded at her and shot water out of his mouth and into the bowl. Thankfully, none of the water stained the papers, and the little fox blessed him by throwing a paper to him. However, when he read the front page, he folded it in and huffed.

Still, Larkin read WAR on the titles of other newspaper and passed by the drinking eevee. "What's that about?"

"Ah, fire-types. Not even aware it's hot out." He wagged a claw in the air.

"I meant the paper."

"I'm going to have a busy night." He dodged a treecko jumping from the dirt road to the clay roofs above. "Ah, kids, watch out for them tonight. One's gonna have a birthday party in my tavern."

_That random kid jumped higher than I can?_ Larkin turned his head away from the grinning gecko. _Then why did Toby call me talented? _There was only one way to fix that and ease the envy telling that monkey to climb higher.

"Yes. Janitor work. I pay you and give room and board," Krauss continued, pointing down the road. "When I started in a guild, I did that everyday for a year—then I kicked ass. Heck, I even have an employee weight room in the basement to get you to move on."

That was convenient. Still, he had to wonder why Krauss and many pedestrians carried swords, knives, and axes. Even a medicham baker behind his fiery stained glass windows wore a sword, so he felt there was something going on. Aw hell, what he knew was nothing. Here he was with a feraligatr, dodging things like a mawile's jaws slapping against him while pokémon shouted out deals on bread, books, butter, potatoes, iron ore, and dinner. _And why is that group of eeveelutions by the restaurant dressed with more ribbons than a skitty at a parade?_

When a vulpix near to them grinned at Larkin and licked his maw, the monferno jumped to Krauss's other side.

"There's my beauty." Krauss patted Larkin's back and pointed at a sign over a porch showing a feraligatr downing beer. Rapidashes stood by it, fastened in front of water troughs. On top of all that, the building had a second floor packed with windows and decorative, barred balconies pressed into the structure. However, he wondered why horses would be fastened like feral pokémon. "I'll get you a collar and Minter medallion like mine. You'll look great." He tapped his medallion and grinned.

A pair of zangooses tumbled out of the swinging doors and flung around dust. "Take that back, brother!" The horses neighed and scurried about, indicating a feral nature as Larkin hoped.

"No way!" One of them kicked the other and jumped to his feet.

"We should break it up." Larkin tapped Krauss's knee.

Krauss chuckled and slapped his blue tummy. "No. Not our job until one's about to kill the other. Speaking of job." He grinned at Larkin. "You have trash to take out."

"But Krauss—"

"That's Mister Minter to you now," he said, "And that fight's not your problem, hero."

* * *

Larkin yawned and stepped onto the dusty stone floor of the basement. Crates were stacked all around him, and orange crystals illuminated the box halls like Larkin's tailflame over wine. In front, he heard footsteps stomping around and making the liquor bottles collide. "Krauss, why'd you send a noctowl to wake me up?"

"I wanted to know how you're doing." The feraligatr walked out of a hall of crates and scribbled on a clipboard. "And how's the medallion collar fitting?"

Larkin sighed and rubbed the winged collar. For all its glamour, it ached his neck and made him think about walking back upstairs "Look, it fits fine, but it's early morning." He set his head against his hand. "I should be asleep."

He chuckled and lowered his clipboard. "Asleep? Ha. At this hour, everyone's dancing, mating, or chatting. When we get tired, we go back to sleep, and then wake up at morning. It's routine." Upon hearing Larkin grunt and shake his head, Krauss shrugged. Still, Larkin had to admire how Krauss could be smiling so wide in the middle of the night while his head felt like lead.

_So that's why the bar's open and I hear pawsteps above_, he thought. Heck, carts rolled down the street just like during the day, and pokémon laughed on their stoops. As much as he hated to realize it, Larkin couldn't deny that Krauss expected him to follow the same routine as everyone else. _I'll have to deal with it._

"Right." He jolted his head up. "It's fine. Birthday girl puked on me when I gave her a clown face." Smirking, he said, "But those big pilpup eyes! I never would have thought vomit was cute until she apologized and teared up." Taking that shower afterwards chilled him to the bones, but he felt Krauss liked hearing the good over the bad.

"Wow, you're hiding your feelings."

"Hold up." Larkin covered his chest with his hands. "Everything's fine, even the dirty toilets." _Maybe I was a bit too cranky with him_.

Krauss wagged a claw at him. "Everything's certainly not fine." With a sigh, he grabbed a barrel standing against the cobweb layered wall and laid it on his shoulder. "The West is going to enslave or kill us."

Larkin felt his heart clog with grime. "You said we were okay."

He waved his clipboard at him and shuffled to the right. When Larkin followed, Krauss hummed and gazed down on the gold rings of Larkin's upper arm. "For now we are." At the other end of the basement, he pointed out a rack of dumbbells. "But that meeting earlier mentioned building walls, fortifications! Holy moly, I'm gonna need bigger weights." He smirked at him and rested his claw on his side. "I gotta warn ya the last janitor ran away when he heard of Meadow Bowl, yet here you are after making the marble pillars shine."

Larkin rubbed the back of his neck nervously. This kind of talk made him remember that he didn't fall asleep at all. It was as if that luxray still burned his back with that icy static whenever he shut his eyes, and his eyes would jerk side to side as if startled by the legs of sprinting pokémon. "Is there a problem making things shiny?"

"You silly monkey." He shook his head at him. "You ought to go back to the Great Mesa—you're weak and without family."

"Excuse me?" A bench and thick iron lifting bars and racks broke into view. Meanwhile, his cheeks tightened, holding back an outburst.

"Some month, they'll come back." He laid the barrel against a crate and jumped over to the dumbbells. Up close, those weren't big weights. Labeled 400 kg on each end, one was as big as Larkin, and that was the light end of the rack! "So you should retreat. After all, if Terrell supports Eudoxia, I'll fight until my bar's gone, and you better be ready to fight. You better train while in safety. Then, when this town is gone, _everywhere_ else is sure to fall, even the Great Mesa."

He didn't know what to say. It took over a week of running on and with Ver to get here, and Toby assured him that Ver would find him an ideal place here.

Ah, hell. A town evacuated, an electric lion zapping him, and some black beast encountering him. If those are the results of taking an aggron's advice after knowing him for a week or two, then he had to bite his lip in front of Krauss. Also, with all that doom porn sinking Larkin's stomach, he still found it annoying to be talked to as if Terrell and Eudoxia were obvious to Larkin.

Tapping his clipboard, he whispered, "I heard you were a bit of a hero. Don't act like one—you're too weak."

"I am so sick of traveling." He crossed his arms tightly, and each thought of Krauss's words made him tighten his fingers on his arms more. "After all, won't I be safe for a month here?"

Krauss nodded, rolling his eyes up to a crate labeled vodka.

"Then I'm going to bed." His attention turned to the dusty stone floor. "After I get a hundred push-ups."

He crossed his arms and dropped the clipboard on the barrel. "I'm serious about the advice."

He shook his head. "Stop advising." He turned around and brushed his shoulders. "Just yesterday I learned that this town existed, so let me learn. And how about you help me train instead of talking down on me?"

"Ooh, cranky?" He stepped over and rested a hand on his shoulder, stirring the monferno to look over at him. "Then I'll help you. Expect me to wake you up routinely. No complaining!" He leaned down and whispered, "And maybe a book or a patron can help you learn."

He burned out by the time he lied on his blankets. Larkin's arms turned so much into mashed potatoes that he was helpless when his eyes closed. So darn tired that he didn't think. So much blood flushed his brain that his heartbeat phased out his hearing. Yes, he got all one hundred push-ups, but he did most of those on his knees. Sure, it was a failure. However, Krauss's congratulations and promises of steak dinner made the compromised push-ups feel not so bad.

Krauss's idea of talking to patrons during breaks was a great idea until Larkin met a vulpix that wanted to taste him because "Your fur is like a flareon." That kind of talk made him run into the kitchen and wash dishes. Speaking of flareon, at least that chef complained about that vulpix to Larkin's delight. He told a few stories about the world, but apparently he believed sleeping in brush fires was just the most exciting thing.

Concerning the possibility of attack, the flareon chef said, "Get money first just in case you're caught on the road." He let his little eevee brother flip the pancakes on the stove from the top of his head. "After all, a nobody like you isn't going to attract a slave rescue without reward. It's risky!"

That made Larkin pause and wonder if he was lucky to get this far. On top of that, if that luxray picked him up, his twenty silver coins wouldn't have made a difference._ But a nobody? What's your problem?_ he thought, picking up a mop despite his sluggish muscles.

"Larkin, I need your help smoking a wine barrel!" Krauss yelled.

He pinched his eyebrows together and walked past a mienshao waitress. His inner flame still raged, but it would rather stay inside like how his arms wanted to lie on the bed. That would be a poor way to earn silver, however.

* * *

For some reason, there wasn't much noise downstairs today. Only Krauss's yelling. No matter, Larkin made the final step with a bag of potatoes weighing as much as him onto the bar floor. A week of weightlifting surprised Krauss. Still, the curiosity that followed bugged Larkin. Right now, that feraligatr was probably gazing at him again, so maybe it was best to ask what was the matter.

Larkin glanced up and dropped the bag. A black cloth fluttered in the air, and it came from the covered face of Blackcade. _Oh, it's that jackass. Maybe I should kick him_. However, Larkin thought it best to breath and avoid overheating. After all, burning the cherry floorboards, art, and the decorative cedar pillars would get rid of any bonuses.

Blackcade took small potatoes from a tapa plate and smelled the pepper sauce on it. After waiting and feeling a growing annoyance with him, Larkin started to speak, but Krauss spoke over him,"I would much prefer if you smelled like that sauce instead of shit."

"Mojo sauce? Canarian wrinkly potatoes were my favorite to eat before slaughtering towns long ago. Now I'm only allowed to remember those days."

Larkin blinked, but then realized Blackcade probably wanted to show off, not kill. He was much more vulnerable earlier, but the fears bothered him like cockroaches on his feet.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Larkin crossed his arms.

Blackcade threw the potatoes between the folds of his headcloth. No mouth or face was seen, but he moved the food inside with his paws before taking it in. No patron was inside the bar, but Larkin saw floatzels and buizels moving about outside. Their swearing also fluttered inside, and they smelled like roses.

"Here," he said, taking a yellow book from his black coat. It read _Elementary Analysis of Real Numbers _and it was clean. He walked over to Larkin and slapped the book on the nearest table. With a psychic command, the potatoes flew off of the floor, causing the bag to tumble onto the stairs. He also slid a chair towards Larkin and pointed at it.

He sat down and put his paws in his lap, waiting for Larkin to speak up as if it were obvious why he should speak. Larkin's face gazed at him with his sharp teeth out, but Larkin knew this display only would let Blackcade know his feelings while not resolving anything.

"It seems you don't care anymore. Read page seven, primate."

Larkin jumped onto the chair and grabbed the book. He thought of burning it, but Blackcade tapped a red sword sheath on his waist to warn him. _Yes, I can still hear and talk to you_,he thought, but realized that wasn't his voice. Opening it to page seven, Larkin read obvious properties of real numbers like 0 1, but then he saw writing around that property. Scribbles, random lines mixed in with the English as if Blackcade made up his own language to express frustration that he could not proceed in the book.

"Yes, you changed a lot of things for me. Hence why that book gathered dust for about ten years."

Krauss scratched his head, and tapped his claws on the bar counter, straining himself to listen.

Meanwhile, the flareon and his sibling in the kitchen loudly complained with the waiters about the smell lingering by them. Thankfully, an idea came to Larkin from the blackness of his memory that may get him out of this horrible odor.

"But it's obvious," Larkin said.

"Oh, please, you'll someday understand why this is important," he said, back flipping and throwing the chair to the floor. He landed with his back to Larkin and walked towards the exit while the chair bounced and landed right side up.

"No, no, I mean, we know zero's lesser than or equal to A squared is true, but also that 1 times 1 is one squared. Moreover," Blackcade stopped. He clenched his paws and Larkin continued, "If A times B equals zero, then either A or B or both equal zero. However, 1 and 1 are not zero, so 1 is not equal to zero and hence 1 is greater than zero..." Blackcade turned around, and Larkin smirked as the figure's shoulders dropped. "Oh, I see. I did what you couldn't."

_What the heck did I just do?_ Larkin thought.

"Ah ha!" Krauss laughed, and Blackcade growled. Larkin laughed as well, feeling confident that if Krauss could laugh without being punched, then so could he. When that softened to a pair of smiles, they saw Blackcade with his head down and paws unclenched. The stance inspired some pride in both of them that overcame the rotting smell. Some pokémon standing outside of the bar gossiped among themselves in surprise.

"Something's not right," Blackcade said, walking towards the exit. "Oh, and by the way, Ver bet that you would die. Let's do that wager again because he'll surely lose, and I love his face when he loses..." he trailed off on that sentence, realizing what just happened to him. He clenched one paw, pointed the other at him, then walked away. "I'll be back, monkey."


	3. Chapter 2: Meeting the Electric Dog

**Chapter 2: Meeting the Electric Dog**

**About one month ago.**

"How long ago did you wake him?" Ver said, rubbing one of his eyes, and Toby the Aggron greeted him for breakfast.

"Hour before sunrise," he said, struggling with the thin newspaper in his bulky claws. Ver sighed and walked over to turn the page. "Good thing I read this at _lunch_time." Ver, noticing the comment, turned his head away and shrugged. "But... I think I'll read in the morning soon enough."

_Oh, that monkey..._ Ver thought, and he wondered how many baskets of berries Larkin gathered. _He's really sucking up to him._

Toby smirked at him. "Ver, I'm serious, but not for the reason you may think."

"Oh?" Ver said, titling his head.

"Yeah, I know a delphox maiden. I figure she can polish my and stone walls and floors better. Plus, she has such delicate paws. Oh ho! I better get some flowers in here."

_Oh, great, now I'll have to listen to that at night._

"Enough." Ver sighed, gazing across the red granite table that held five fresh watermelons. Smooth as glass, and the extinguished crystal firestone torches on the wall reminded him he worked to live and eat here. "Are you kicking him out yet?" Ver asked, spreading out his arms to confront him. His anger flared while he suppressed himself to avoid offending his friend.

"No. You're both leaving tomorrow."

"Why me and him?" Ver asked, pointing his claw out the window towards the field of blue and green berry bushes where Larkin likely ran through. "I'm not the amnesiac trespasser."

"Hey, he's been an employee, but, yes, amnesiac..." Toby nodded and looked out the round window. Four square kilometers of berries, and many more acres of coca, hemp, and smokeable substances grew near the smokehouse bar and grill for travelers.

He picked up the newspaper and said, "I remember when you tried eating with your wings as a torchic. And when you puked because you didn't store pebbles—I laughed. Larkin reminds me of you..." He smirked and chewed down a watermelon slice. "He runs wrongly and he squats without his heels touching the ground. Besides, have you cared enough to see his running speed improvement? It was seven minutes a kilometer last week; today, I saw him run that in three and a half minutes."

"That's impossible." Ver chuckled until he saw Toby's frown directed at him. "No. You don't mean?"

Toby nodded and he took many watermelon slices into his mouth. While chewing, he waited for Ver to speak up and accept the connection. However, accepting such an absurd power increase made Ver put his claws on his head. He shook his head. _Impossible_, he thought, _Is Toby just mocking me? That monkey's just a janitor and berry picker!_

"Ver, I'm doing this for you, as a friend," Toby said, perhaps realizing that he may have damaged their bond. He adopted him much like he shouldn't have adopted Larkin. Young adult pokémon in distress were welcomed to gain shelter in exchange for modest work, but Toby wanted to admire Ver instead of pity him. Ver knew that, but he trembled and feared what Toby wanted.

"Well, those five hundred refugees going west to east need your help more than I need yours. Anyway, I have a business to return to," Toby said, stamping his claws on the paper before getting up and walking towards his door. "I'll be back at dinner to talk further. You better plan."

As much as he would like to get some pride from fighting again, he knew the reality was different. "But no guild's going to take us two! And who's going to believe—"

"Then drop him off at Meadow Bowl Guild and become a nomad or something," he said and he raised a claw right when Ver opened his mouth to speak. "By the way, I was going to kick you out even if Larkin didn't show up... You act like you deserve to be here just because you put in your hours of work—" Toby said, lowering his head and sighing, "—Why Ver? You can be so great. I've seen you."

"And what about my stuff?" Ver said, trying to deflect what Toby said to him. It was like he let down his coach, but he kept trying to disregard him, to dodge the guilt-trap.

"Pay me three gold coin in three months, or it's going out." _Oh, thank goodness. Maybe, I'll make a secret base and train!_ he thought, feeling Toby's gaze continue to drown him. He felt like he should say something but nothing came out.

Ver's mouth stayed open while he pondered his words. He wanted to curse him for forcing him to find a new bed and way to gather food. At the same time, whatever happened to the days of cliffdiving without injury? What would it take to make pokémon stop looking at him like some loser?

Toby slammed the door. _Dang_, he thought_._ He scanned the paper and snuffed it from his mind. He couldn't bother thinking about Eudoxia's threats to spread its cursed blessing this far east because he thought, _Such bull! That monkey is no elite, Toby_.

* * *

"Holy week?" Larkin awakened to see late morning sunlight and Krauss's large jaws leaning into his room.

"Yeah, because six hundred years ago, Blackcade saved the world."

"What! Is this a prank?" His shoulders tensed up.

"Nope." When Larkin shook his head and gazed away, Krauss paused. "Oh, relax, we're not celebrating him. It's for fun, family, and fruition. The Church of the Life Spirit rents out the bar for their use to reflect on their lives every year over all the alcohol and tobacco they want to buy."

"Good." With that offense sunken, his shoulders relaxed. He looked out his rusty iron framed window and noticed all the chatter and shouting that came from outside. "Huh, bar's quieter than outside."

"Bar's on vacation." Krauss nodded. "That's how I'm able to relax with my family. You should as—oh, sorry." He lowered his head.

"Don't worry too much." Larkin rested his head back on the floor. "I'm an adult."

Krauss reached over and poked the fire-type's head, which elicited a grunt. "I think my family would like having you over later this week." He smiled and backed out into the hallway. "It takes a real man to clean a bathroom like you did."

"Thanks." He sat up and rubbed where the cold claw touched. "So what's my job today?"

Chuckling, he brushed his shoulders and titled his head down the hall. "You're on vacation, too. The church is supposed to keep the place clean." He waved for Larkin to get up. "Before I go, you and all the employees get a shower. Oh, and help yourself to the kitchen later."

"Fine." Even on the Great Mesa, water-types wanted to clean him of a charred sweaty smell. The shower always froze his spine. Still, even Ver succumbed to it, so there was no reason to be a crybaby even though his legs cracked all the way to the public bath. _Dang it, Krauss, you were right. That was too much weight_, he thought, grabbing his thigh and smiling up at Krauss as if nothing went wrong.

Later, he walked to the stairs and his soreness chewed him harder, making him shake. He saw the flareon chef bounce down, but there was no way Larkin would even step down each of the dry clay steps.

Thank goodness for the sun-bleached white pole of wood on the wall because he grabbed that railing with both hands. His upper body ensured that his lower part would not humiliate itself.

Reaching the final step, he looked up to see a chandelier of green paper hanging from the ceiling as if the old stone-like ceiling sprouted a tree. Below it, a grumpig's telekinesis tied more green bands onto it.

"Oh hey there," a manectric said, nudging Larkin's shoulder. The nose bump tipped his balance, but he put out a false smile despite how his legs didn't like stopping his fall.

"What's with the bands? Why are the seats and tables stacked against the wall?"

"Every pokémon writes a poem or prose about a life issue of this year. Sometimes it's success, other times... not so much." She pointed her muzzle at a set of cacturnes and cacneas crowding the grumpig. Some looked like monks with all the bands draped on them, and one tripped on his own lace of paper.

Larkin and the manectric's eyes darted at his falling head, but they were too far away to help. "Whoa, buddy," a floatzel said, catching him. The cacturne excused himself and stood back up from the orange and pale furred arms. The line proceeded forward, and he and Larkin exchanged glances before the water-type glared at the electric dog.

"Hm, Ferreira, again," she said, then she brushed one of her paws on her blue face possibly to hide her displeasure and said, "Tomorrow morning and every morning for the next week may be a big mess," she said, and Larkin sighed, figuring he might be hired to clean again. "So could you join in the mess?"

"What?" He quickly turned his head to her grinning face.

"Yeah," she said, almost barking at him. "You look tired!"

"I don't even understand this celebration, so what would I do?"

She opened her mouth in surprise, then closed it and smirked, leaning downwards towards his face. "Holy Spirit of Life, you must have been isolated in the forest with your lonely clan. It's simple, we pay homage to the Spirit." She turned back towards the crowd, and she patted Larkin's back with her sharp, blue tail in order to make him follow.

"So it's acknowledgment that you're vassals?"

She laughed and kicked a peanut shell from the floor. However, it sounded like she hid a sob in her voice. "She's the best master ever then. But, seriously, it's just respect. Even in the worst times, it was that Spirit that comforted us." She nudged his shoulder. "So what's your name?"

"Larkin." It still felt odd to walk along the scratched floorboards without a mop, bag, or brush, but he adjusted to the situation and asked, "And what's yours—"

"Renegade Delilah courting the little janitor," Ferreira interrupted from behind Larkin, then he jumped over their heads and landed in front of them. He raised his chin with a grin. "Aw, dirty matted fur, the both of ya. It's so cute."

_Renegade?_ thought Larkin, _Courting!? How can those two words fit together? _As for the grooming, Larkin just realized the shower left him with a horrible case of bed hair. However, he didn't believe it was a problem until this shiny, silky water weasel showed up. Also, One more insult and he might ask if he can punch this pest's teeth in.

"Ferreira." She growled. "Shut up." She composed herself and looked outside, dismissing him and paying attention to ground-types eating tamales outside.

"Fine, _splitaway_," he said, folding his pink scarf around his silky smooth fur and walking out, "You belong in the West, and I am sickened to see you even talking and admiring this good Samaritan Larkin. I mean, weren't you attacking Meadow Bowl?"

"Wanna feel a million volts?"

"Sir, please leave." Larkin stepped in front of her, but the floatzel didn't acknowledge his approach.

"Oh, so threatening." He laughed and turned to walk to the exit. "Remember, I'm watching." He put his paw to his eyes and then pointed at her with a smirk.

His head smashed into a black kneecap from the corner of the doorway. Larkin and her started laughing. The black pants kicked him aside and a blood red sarape strolled in. Their joy froze. That black, wolf tail swept over the floatzel and he ducked his head below the entrance's doorway due to his height and a straw sombrero. Blackcade held his paws on his belly and disregarded the blindsighted floatzel.

"You jerk, I'll—oh, oh..." He opened his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Before the figure moved again, Ferreira jumped out the exit and Blackcade focused on the chandelier. He brought one paw up to his wrapped chin to scratch it in wonderment.

Everyone saw him, and grunted and continued on with their business. Surely his presence mocked the Spirit, but his scent was better than before—only habanero peppers now.

"Larkin, the book," he said, still not facing him.

"I'm with someone, can't you wait?," he said, "Just go grab it and leave." Delilah stepped away from Larkin and he nearly coughed when the black lucario turned towards him slowly, uttering a subtle growl.

"And I'm back like I said I would be. New deal: You will teach me that whole book." He grabbed a book sized bag from the back of his sarape and displaying it to him, "I got my supplies."

"Excuse me!" Larkin said, stepping his right foot forward and pumping his fist up. "I've worked all week and trained until stairs required crawling, and you want me to tutor you now?"

"You really haven't figured out your ability yet?" He shrugged and wagged his paw at him. "Ha, well, don't throw a tantrum. But yeah, you're missing so much delicious food, dancing, mural paintings, and even the building of a fancy stone sculpture right now. I could even transform into that manectric's mate and give her a ride better than her soon-to-be dead husband."

_Ability? Oh, I see, he's insulting me and her_, he thought, hearing her growls.

"You, you..." She closed her eyes and lowered her head to quiver. "Insensitive bastard! Toying with my love! No one would mate with you even if you transformed into a milotic!" She pounced and Larkin staggered backwards. Her jaws clamped on his throat, sparking with blue electricity. However, Blackcade didn't flinch; in fact, he walked towards Larkin.

"It's not a bad deal, Larkin, I get three hours with you for tutoring whenever I want."

She growled and continued to pour her energy into her bite.

"I can't refuse?"

Blackcade nodded, causing her to tumble up and down like a long beard.

"But I want compensation, and maybe seeing some compassion from you towards others."

He grabbed her throat, ceasing her breathing for a moment, and tossed her out. The grumpig ran after her, as did everyone else in the room.

"Delilah!" Larkin yelled, trying to get to her, but Blackcade slapped him and kept him in front. "That's some funny compassion you got there." He tried shoving past him, but he remained as still as a fence post.

Blackcade squatted down to him. He collared Larkin's arm with the same paw that he used to throw out Delilah, and the older, evolved pokémon around them gasped at what they saw. To Larkin, the paw caressed his arm like a hot steamroller with each tendon clenching in a vain attempt to get away from his moving grip. He cringed, but didn't moan. His paws were clean, degreased, but felt as stiff as steel.

Pokémon leaned in through the windows to look at them and some said, "Is he a new slave?"

_Slave!_ Larkin thought, tugging but finding himself trapped.

His paws turned cold. His fur sucked heat like a bag of ice. Larkin also noticed that her bite did nothing to his scarf or head wrapping—not even a shift in where the cloth rested.

He released him and stood up. "Compassion? Nah, and sorry about that." Larkin blinked, noticing that he said sorry. "That habit doesn't apply today. What the fuck do you want? Gold, books, mind control of a pokémon?" Everyone went silent around them for a moment and then he chuckled and said, "Just joking on the last one."

"You hurt her; you deserve to help her."

The crowd leaned in through windows to listen to his answer. Delilah said "yeah!" but her groans soon overcame her, and many pokémon carried her off despite her vocal protest to stay and watch.

"I won't." He nudged the monferno's forehead with a paw, "Bargain better"

_Well, maybe I should ask about my past_, he thought and Blackcade said, "No."

_Maybe one day you could explain what's the deal with the mind reading_. But Blackcade replied with no, again. Thus Larkin thought of more ideas, but the same "no" kept resounding with more and more annoyance until he finally said, "I'll interject with my idea."

"And what is that?" Larkin said, feeling his legs wobble. Any more standing while facing up at this tall beast and he might collapse.

"Special protein supplement and another book. Deal, monkey?"

"A book? Isn't that what got me here?"

"Hey, you wanted to learn about the world." He chuckled. "But maybe you're just a criminal claiming memory loss. Even after Meadow Bowl, you're nothing. A farmhand. Now imagine if a rumor that a monferno somewhere burned a field of wheat." He snapped his paws and a flame ignited in one.

_Oh_, Larkin thought,_ Aren't you a bastard_. Still, he persisted as a dying flame would, "Guess I'll do it, but I'll set your rude ass on fire when I get the chance." Pokémon around them chuckled to themselves and joked that that the monferno would burn first.

"Yep. Rude. Krauss has a shot recipe called 'Blackcade,' which is hotter than your puny tail."

Larkin sighed, noticing that a plusle and minun in a window to his left spied on him and darted away when he saw them. In fact, many other pokémon hid their faces when Larkin looked at them. Such actions reminded him of how pokémon disregarded and walked away from pathetic drunkards, but at least it was this beast's fault that he now looked away from others in shame.

An opportunity to relax with the hot sun overhead and the endless lines of street venders of food and drinks went to waste. He wouldn't even get to finger-paint a wall and laugh at himself. He agreed to Blackcade's sentence before he heard anyone else say he was immoral to take a deal with Blackcade. Immoral? He dismissed the words, but it still shocked him to hear anyone suggest that..

"To your room then," Blackcade said, walking to the stairs while Larkin followed behind the red blanket he wore as a coat on his coat. Larkin picked up an old, small potato from the floor and threw it away in a bin next to the stairs.

When he reached that first step, Larkin remembered his leg weakness earlier going down the stairs. Going up? He couldn't even imagine crawling after the strain from standing near him.

"Get up here."

"I really can't," Larkin said, looking at the black cloth wrapped head upstairs.

He hurried down the steps and grabbed Larkin's shoulder.

"What a sissy," he said, walking up. Pokémon followed from the bar's floor.

They would put bands onto the chandelier until it landed on the floor, but Blackcade assured Larkin they would never go upstairs to the guest and employee rooms.

Larkin struggled against Blackcade at first, but he lifted him up regardless of how his movements should have shifted any holder's balance.

"Done moving?" Blackcade clenched the fire-type's hand. Larkin nodded, not wanting him to have him dislocate his shoulder.

He wondered why the subject interested him so much, but Blackcade didn't answer that thought.

* * *

"Those must be the new Meadow Bowl slaves and sin bearers." A purple robed figure strolled along the slopes of hill's trail with a luxray by his side. He turned his clothed head towards the faraway crowd of shackled pokémon in the valley. "They're good enough, Pascal."

She nodded and walked beside him, her star tipped tail almost scrapping the gravel path. "One problem: Eudoxian Parliament orders your army to attack the East, General Terrell."

His walking stick jabbed into the ground and they stopped. "When?"

"Two weeks."

"Interesting." He lifted his dark walking stick and pointed on the slopes below. "We're harvesting the cannabis around that time. Am I right to assume the other armies are staying in the Western Republic?"

She nodded her head and licked a rock off her paw. "It's obvious that we'd win, but we'd lose our land to those Eudoxia bootlickers." She nuzzled a gold ring locked around her front leg and recalled the first "illegal" shipment she smuggled past the border that awarded her this.

Meanwhile, Terrell sighed and hummed to himself. Wind passed by, flapping the robe and pressing it against his boulder-sized arms and torso.

All she did to earn her rings was walk up to the guards, leave them a pound of potent kush, and smoke with them while the train of wagons went east to Low Plains Town. Yes, she was their boss, but those employees never betrayed such a benefactor.

The gold flowed to her when merchants asked for access to the West's ores, produce, and other goods. This money went to the army (which she helped command), the farming, and the manufacturing investments. Leftovers bribed old residents and kept them fed and unemployed due to the easy slave labor.

Being unemployed wasn't bad when you owned a slave to do all your work for you, too. Heck, those superstitious citizens even made slaves into sin bearers. Yes, they could now fatten themselves despite not working, cheat on their wives, and then assure themselves of salvation by giving damning sins to their slave. She thought it was all rubbish, but at least she made art out of the junk.

With a sniff, Pascal had wave after wave of pine and herb scent relax her while standing above a field of three meter tall cannabis. The slaves looked up to them, perhaps afraid they were about to harvest the hundreds of meters of irregular slopes. The rain last night made the sun especially brutal and sweaty for them, too. However, she looked forward to a sunny lunch with wine served in silver goblets.

"Mmm." She exhaled, satisfied with imagining the gold to flow to her in a week. "What will we do, General?"

"Tell Parliament to fuck off. We can't trust them." He looked at tauros chaining up a kangaskhan and putting her in a convoy, "These pokémon would starve without us if they attacked."

"Oh, using reason? How did you become a general?" Pascal grinned.

He pointed at the slave convoy and said, "Give a salute to them. After all, if their work stops, lamps will go dark, ropes and sails can't be made, medicine runs out, paint can't be replenished, and a quarter of the food in the Capitol vanishes. Do I have to warn you everyday to thank your inferiors?"

She saluated with a huff, and waved one paw. Oh, right, she had another poker game tonight to show off her bling to those pathetic urban sergeants.

"I have a better idea to tell Parliament: I'll get that raichu to do it. He really sucks at blackjack, you know."

"Very good." He tapped the ground with the stick twice. "Oh, That's the convoy of draft-dodgers over there." Terrell waved at a distant charizard beating many pokémon on their legs to get them to the slave trading platform. Many farmers, commoners, and merchants gathered around it to shout bids despite how far the convoy still was.

"I better get going, lots of production and artisans to check on," she said, expecting to be bowed to at least fifty times today before going north out of the mountains and into the city.

"Take care, and make sure the young slaves are in school! Better not be any dying, either."

"Yeah, but one more thing..." Pascal trailed off, scratching her head.

"It's Greg, isn't it?"

"Uh, yes. He told me he had a grudge to settle." Pascal watched Terrell shake his head and turn to walk up the path. "Where you going?"

"To find the best smoke." He shrugged and waved his rocky hand back at her. "Go do your work, I'll throw a party and feast for the slaves. You know, public relations."

She nodded and thought, _Goodness, Terrell, pokémon are going to volunteer to be enslaved at this rate. Wait_. She put a paw on her black furry chin and a spark flew in front of her face. She directed it up, down, and then drew a smooth spiral before it vanished. _That reminds me... I have experiments to run_.

* * *

Blackcade left some protein gel in a jar and a white math book at the end of the session. He only talked to ask questions, and Larkin didn't know where his answers came from. Even Blackcade admitted that he couldn't find the memories that explained the math. Nonetheless, the victory in that gel sure tasted good before a mid-day nap on his straw mat. Anything to fix the torture of his legs was appreciated.

Not even his tail twitched when a dream started out of a black void.

"Why do you run?" a voice spoke while Larkin leaned his head over the edge of a mattress to greet the coffee stained carpet from the hundreds of businessmen and truckers over the ages. In addition to the smell of Lysol, the ink from the mountains of books around him stuffed his nose with inks while teasing him with a sweet honey smell from ten golden books. He felt like he was making up all these brands and facts, but he accepted them in his trance.

He looked up. Clear as the floor to ceiling mirror, he was a chimchar. Something in its eyes felt off, but the dream kept him locked in distractions like the fuzzy cloth below him. The voice repeated itself, but Larkin stared at a white book, finding it as blank as his mind.

"What else would I do?"

"They got me. I have a way out if you do the right thing, so get it done."

"You don't mean?"

"A life sentence either way."

He felt tears drip from his eyes.

"I knew it, you're all talk, and you're doomed like me."

* * *

"Ugh. That's weird." He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "I don't recall being a chimchar, nor seeing a mirror." _Never... but then how could I dream it?_ His realization hit him that he must have seen those objects before his current memories. He got up, slapped his yellow book open, and wrote down what he experienced in the blank pages at the end of the text.

It was his only source of paper at the time, and he stood up in pride that he recorded something. Still, the voice, the carpet, and the Lysol were curiosities. Maybe Krauss would know these things.

He noticed the position of the sun indicated he slept the whole night, yet his muscles felt as if he relaxed on open plains for a week. An urge to train and pulverize sand for glory had replaced the dull, hot pain in his muscles. _Strange... A day passed and I feel like this? What did he do to me?_

Gazing at his hands, he clenched them. It felt like like a flame rushed fuel down his arm and to his legs. He patted his legs, but there was no soreness.

"Oh, dear." He remembered what happened yesterday, and he dropped his tail and head. "He must have drugged me, but why—" His eyes jolted open and he lifted his head. "Delilah... Maybe he did something to her, too."

There wasn't anything better to do, so he took the only five silver coins he had into his paws and jumped out of his room. Thoughts of scaling buildings crawled through his mind. He shook his head and moved down the hall. He heard rustling behind him.

"No monkeying around," the flareon chef said, peaking out from his fabric flaps of a doorway. Larkin sighed and marched away with a smirk directed at the eeveelution. He rolled his eyes. "Good, you might have crashed on someone."

* * *

A vulpix with a black bandana tied around his highest tail tip-toed up the stairs of Krauss's Tavern, careful to not thud on the plaster and clay floor surface. After all, it was best to be slow and marvel at the surfing swamperts, feraligatrs and other water-types that an artist designed on the hall's floor. "Go investigate that book," that rhydon and golem said, but he wouldn't get paid if anyone caught him up here. Only employees were allowed here during the rent period. Left and right, he looked down the orange colored hallways and saw nobody.

He walked left and silently breathed through his mouth while approaching Larkin's room. Inside the neighboring room, some pokémon talked about random arts and crafts through their white fabric doorway.

_Good, he didn't lock the door slab up_, he thought, recalling how he peeked through the lock holes to see the monferno's burning tail some nights ago. Such a worthwhile monkey to peek at. It was those purple eyes that caught his fancy on that street. Monfernos were supposed to have dark brown eyes, he thought.

"Honestly, big bro, I was so scared."

"It was just Blackcade, little sis," someone said, "Just leave him alone and you'll be safe."

The vulpix stepped inside the room and fixed his eyes on the yellow book. As told to, he lied down on Larkin's straw sleeping mat and flicked open the pages with his nose.

_Intermediate Value Theorem? What the heck am I looking at? _he thought, _Come on, Blackcade, there's gotta be more in here..._ He flipped through more pages, finding ever more confusing symbols and words until he reached the last pages. _Now this I can understand._

After reading, he reread, and locked onto the word "business_men_." _Men? They haven't existed since the Bridger ordered the humans to leave about fifteen years ago. _He noted additional details like Larkin's memory loss and snickered to himself. _Lost memories? Well, we'll see what that rhydon thinks of that. Let's get this book downstairs._ The instant he thought of that plan, blood red writing overpowered Larkin's text instantly.

It read, "Get off my book, dog." The book slammed shut, snapping on his paw and forcing it out. He whined, then he realized his other obsession noticed him. He chuckled despite the pain.

"Wait, what's this?" he said, noticing a black glass jar with its lid off beside his bedding. _That green GR label... how did Larkin get that?_

"What was that?" the neighbor said, and the vulpix leaped out of the doorway and through the hallway. "Hey, stop!" But he already found the stairs and jumped to the ground floor. He jumped into a rhydon's bag and panted. With each breath, the vulpix watched the flareon look around from inside the bag, and he relaxed when he gave up and went back upstairs. "Damn Blackcade watchers."

* * *

"You're the first visitor for her," the sylveon doctor said, waving her pink feelers above her waist bag of berries and bandages.

"Really, Doctor Dewey?" Larkin walked on the white tile floor towards a doorway.

"Yep. Let's see if her infection's gone away."

_Infection_? _It can't be that bad; it was just a grab,_ he thought, wandering his eyes around the hall and silently if reflecting her pink fur, this doctor's office a uniform pink glaze on the ceiling and walls. It felt weird to Larkin, but he forgot about that as soon as he saw a nidoking covered in bloody gauze and bandages. Once he noticed purple and yellow ooze seeping from his burn marks, Larkin glanced away and kept his thoughts on who he was visiting.

Dewey showed Larkin in and he saw Delilah lying on her side on a soft, large green mat.

She blinked and tilted her head, showing off her clean bandaged neck. "Larkin?" she said, groaning after speaking, "Well, how nice to see someone."

"Shush, your throat is heavily bruised and still bleeding," she said, soothing her by passing her feelers over her blue and yellow furred head and neck.

"How about nodding or shaking instead?" he asked, and she nodded, "Do you have family nearby?" She shook her head and closed her eyes. Her paws clenched until further fairy-type magic relaxed her again. Once the sparkles reached her, he asked, "Well... Is there any way I can help?"

Her red eyes opened and she stared at him. With a glance to the bag on Dewey, she nodded, and Larkin asked the doctor what she could be implying.

"I know it's a week of celebrating life, so I've given her free healing and rooming," she said, "But shipments of oran berries, cannabis, and other supplies have been delayed. Moreover, since she'll survive, it wouldn't be right to give it to her, bill her, and expect her to work the debt off." Larkin asked if the oran berry and cannabis mix would heal her faster. "Absolutely, but it costs five silver to administer it until she's released."

"Five silver... and she already has food?"

"Yes. She consumed pecha berries to combat infection, too."

"Hmm." He looked down and she winced with her legs curling closer. Some sparks flew off of her mane when she moaned. _Dang, I really want some honey and jerky, but I saw those claws in her neck. Eh, she needs it. _"I'll pay for it, and give her a blanket, too."

"Huh, such a nice monkey, but blankets are provided on request here anyway." Dewey gazed at Larkin with her big, blue angel eyes. She giggled and tapped Larkin's shoulder with a feeler, oddly enchanting a smile onto his face.

Delilah's jaw gasped open in surprise. She mumbled, "You're serious?" Larkin nodded and he presented the coins to the doctor.

"My only five coins... he hurt you more than he hurt me, after all." He let the feelers scoop up the money. Even the doctor hesitated and asked if he was going to be okay. He said that he had food and shelter already in the tavern. "Now now, just relax. It's probably my fault for what happened." He turned towards the exit.

"No, no, you're good." She shook her head. "In fact, why not rest a little here?"

She coughed and Larkin stopped himself from walking out. He looked back, and she gazed at him. Something about those red eyes not blinking sympathized with him. He thought, _Goodness, her puppy eyes... The outdoor fun can wait_. While walking towards her, her smile widened and her eyes opened up like a child getting a cake at Krauss's Tavern.

He sat beside her head and Dewey nodded before leaving to stir the potion.


	4. Chapter 3: A Few Deaths

**Chapter 3: A Few Deaths**

After Doctor Dewey offered the mixture to Delilah, she licked at the tall glass faster and faster until most was gone. Dewey said that would be enough for lunch, and she wished her a good rest. Dewey left and the electric-type offered the last tenth of the drink to him. Despite how she wiped the rest of the goo off her face with her golden tongue, Larkin shook his head at the pungent drink.

"No, that's yours," he said, gently pushing her paw back. His hand jerked and a shock fried his nerves and he tumbled backwards.

Her other paw grabbed him and pulled him onto the green mat. _Why can't I talk or move... Oh, she's like that luxray_, he thought, recalling how his legs froze due to that earlier shock. _At least her dropped jaw means she's sorry_.

Delilah looked down on him, biting her lip before saying, "Sorry, that was my static." Her voice was softer, cleaner than before as if the medicine already soothed her throat. Some feeling returned to Larkin's body and he felt her fur stroking the side of his body. "It's hard to control, but it's useful for catching wild prey. You'll be fine. Maybe even get used to it."

_Well, that's assuring_, he thought, smiling back and chuckling while still half-numb.

She shifted her body off of him and sat the glass down beside him. She closed her eyes and said, "You should try it... really numbs the pain." Her jaw rested on the mat and she slumped her shoulders down.

Larkin closed his eyes, too, and said, "I'm already calm."

* * *

Dewey's giggles woke Larkin later. Delilah stood above him and now she didn't have bandages on. She licked a new bluish-green mix from a glass while Dewey surrounded Larkin with her feelers to tease him with breezes.

"Time to go, sleepy boy. She's healthy."

"How long was I out?" Larkin said.

"About five hours. That concentration of berries and _Cannabis indica_ really helped." Dewey nudged him gently.

"Won't she fall asleep again with that new glass?" She giggled and Delilah finished her glass.

"It's a low amount. Just enough to finish healing without problems." A loud groan emitted from the room next to them. "Now if only I had a sirtus berry. Anyway, take care. Oh," She perked her blue eyes up and Larkin stood up. "By the way, you smell and look matted. I prefer a bath in Bone Keeper's Mudbaths with that marowak for such stuff."

"How could mud help that?" Delilah snickered and licked her mane down, grooming out the mangled mess. _And I don't smell that bad_.

"Psssh, ground-type magic." She walked to the doorway. "Now enjoy yourselves and try a public sparring match, or something safer if you don't want to come back."

Larkin shrugged and walked through the plain pink hallway to the exit. The lack of art confused Larkin, but he reasoned that perhaps blood would ruin such designs.

Delilah nudged Larkin outside, past the doctor's office plants, and onto the dirt streets. In front of them, next to an adobe apartment filled with fighting-types and water-types shouting from their balconies, a mudkip and a machop ground their feet in the dirt. Many omastars and omanytes surrounded them on the road to cheer them with their blue tentacles waving in the air.

The apartment itself displayed a large field of hemp with grapes planted next to it. Floatzels and hitmonlees filled hundreds of carts that crowded the road between the fields. Also, the stoop to the apartment had fifteen pairs of fists colliding with each other from various pokémon. Such a backdrop made it seem like the mudkip and machop would paint blood onto that stoop soon.

"Start!" one yelled, and the mudkip smashed his head into the machop. The fighting-type caught his head fin in his gray arms. After he tossed him up, the water-type used Water Gun, knocking him down in a splash.

"Come on, throw a punch," one yelled from the apartment.

The machop lunged at him to do that, but the mudkip took the mud on the road and slapped him with a tail load of sludge.

"Ohh," they muttered and heard the side of the machop's head hit the apartment's wall. He slumped down and they complained to each other, "This water kid's good. How about an older fighter go get him?"

"I'd like to try," Larkin said, stepping towards the herd of water shell pokémon. The mudkip turned and stomped his feet in the dirt with a smirk. His blue and gold collar, and a medallion of a feraligatr's face swayed on his neck and shined in the sun. _An employee? But I've never seen him before_.

"I haven't battled someone from my grandfather's tavern." He pointed at the collar still on Larkin.

The omastars taunted the fire-type and predicted his flame would die. At first, Larkin ignored that, then the fighting-types above them screamed that they would break their shells if that happened. The mudkip looked at the machop, now rubbing his head and sitting up, and then back at the fire monkey.

"You're weaker," he said, "You'll just get soaked. Right, Mary?" The water-type directed his head to the side and then forward again.

_Hm? There's nobody there? Whatever. _He refocused on him.

His tail tip passed between his legs just when he unknowingly let out a large fart. A small explosion blew by his flame and everyone nearby went silent. They could hear the delpox down the street spinning his flaming stick, and the many vendors on the side of the street yelling and advertising their many candies, fruits, and breads.

Delilah's suppressed chuckles followed him from behind. She walked up beside Larkin to nudge him to move on. However, he stayed. He was as frozen in embarrassment as everyone was in surprise.

"And there's the thunder," an omastar said. Everyone lost their surprise and laughed.

An omanyte patted Larkin's back and told him to go home before he's humiliated more. Larkin blushed and he covered his cheeks when more laughter rose. Even Delilah snickered beside him, and the mudkip held his head low to chuckle. _Oh, for goodness sake, I just wanted to have fun_, he thought, covering his heart and lowering his head. _Maybe another time._

"And what's so funny?" A voice boomed from behind the mudkip. Everyone's laughs stopped.

"Uncle!" He jumped up and bowing his head to a swampert. The beast slammed his fists down around the mudkip. "I thought you were working the grill stand all day with auntie." Like the mudkip, he wore a collar and medallion, only bigger, and it had white wings attached.

He looked at the machop that now sat on the stoop of the apartment with a spot on his head reddened. They exchanged glances and the larger water-type slapped the mudkip across his orange gills. "Disgraceful. When you're a part of our house, you'll stay out of dirty street fights, and most certainly out of mystery dungeons."

"And I'm supposed to keep doing that damn Rain Dance for farmers everyday with you?" His uncle nodded at him, and the mudkip huffed.

"He was having fun," Larkin said. The swampert frowned at him, causing him to step back, yet he felt justified.

"Seemed like a happy child," Delilah said.

"Punks, the Water Fraternity only fights for training or defense." He picked up the mudkip and shaking his other fist at Larkin, "Now bugger off, my Ramos is going to get a candy if he promises to never waste time street fighting. Isn't that right?" He nudged his kid's chin with one finger.

He turned his head away and Larkin stuck his tongue out at the swampert. The fighting-types above them chuckled and whispered insults about how lard-filled the swampert's white belly was. The uncle shook his head and walked away with the mudkip. Additionally, Larkin realized that Delilah stuck her tongue out.

"Well, he didn't promise," Larkin said, sighing and tapping Delilah's shoulder while imagining the next day he'll meet him. Larkin asked if someone would try to battle him, but they chuckled and told him to work out.

He spit out a little ball of flame on the ground with a smirk and Delilah pulled him away before the audience raised their chins in interest.

"Please don't. We should have a talk before you hurt yourself." She pushed him along the road.

He pushed back, but he had no effect. Pretending that he wasn't that weak, he let himself drag with her.

* * *

"We all like to show off, but that only seemed cute."

Larkin sighed. "I just wanted to share a few blows, nothing bone breaking." Both of them walked around the chandelier of ribbons and watched pokémon play cards, order drinks and meals from the church staff, and talk about what they should volunteer for next.

Rescue teams sometimes came in and out to check the job bulletin. Others bought tamales from next door and smoked on the tavern's porch. Some knocked their fists on others and challenged them to spar on the road, and Larkin watched them laugh and shake paws after a good fight.

"Gah, fighting-types. Now for a more important question." She walked with him and sat on top of a stool. "Why is Blackcade interested in you?"

Larkin shrugged and sat at the tavern's table with her. He had brought out his rations of potatoes for today's meal, and he shared it with her. "I don't know." He then explained the book, his memory loss, and even the dream. "And why are you interested? I mean, it's no big deal." Delilah coughed, likely from the smoke floating inside, and composed herself.

"As a little electrike, I traveled the world with other Blackcade watchers. Childish, I know." She smirked and grabbed a baked potato, "He only traveled and farmed, never talked, but it was fun. You could even shoot lightning at him and he would take it like a paper target!"

"And then we got too close." Larkin bit on an ear of corn and leaned back in his chair. Delilah nodded at him. He melted more butter onto his mashed potatoes. "At least it wasn't as bad as the West..." He looked down at his food, feeling a little sickness at the memories. "I heard they enslaved a lot. In fact, a luxray almost got me, and I have no idea why."

Delilah rolled her eyes to the side and slowly nodded. She lifted her head from the food and, after a moment, said, "There was this human. He made love with Latias, and when her brother got mad, Blackcade annihilated Latios. Most lengendaries suddenly cared about the moral lives of pokémon. Humans left the world, many legendaries ruled over the West, then the elites killed them." She gazed off towards a rhydon arm wrestling with a blastoise.

"How's that related to today?"

"Because those legendaries still control the afterlives of many pokémon." She rolled a bun under her paws, slowly crushing it. "That's why I enjoy this holiday. There are still beings that offer realms of salvation for living life instead of forcing pokémon to submit." She coughed, interrupting the climb in tone of her voice. Her head lowered, and she distracted herself with her food.

_Ferreira called her a renegade_, he thought, _So she escaped the West. Maybe even she ran from Meadow Bowl? Nah. That's too much to ask_.

"That's a lot to take in." He smiled, trying to process what she said while appearing competent. "But what are humans? What are elites?" He looked up at the green chandelier and wondered what it had to do with the conflicts.

"Humans... I don't know much about those pokémon, but they built a lot." She turned her head around the room while mugs splashed on tables. "But elites are memoryless pokémon with muscles that grow like they're on drugs."

Larkin coughed on his potato and gulped it down. "You mean me?" he whispered.

"Maybe." She grabbed the bun and stuffed into her mouth. "You'll have to do more than janitor work to find out."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Basic rescue team work." She pointed at the job board, but it was so crowded with pokémon that she couldn't see the papers on it. "Or maybe all the jobs will be taken."

"Start? You mean start a rescue team?" a golem said, pouncing off his chair at a nearby table and walking over. "It's simple." He crossed his arms and posed to show off his pink scarf tied all around the top of his rock sphere shell.

_I might as well try this, maybe it smells better_, he thought.

* * *

**Sentret Forest**

After two hours of walking, they encountered a cave system in the wild plains. However, jumping into the apparently dark cavern flashed them with light and replaced the smell of dried moss with the moisture of leaves, grass, and sap. Larkin bounced his head off the soft dirt.

Looking around at the trees, white trunks and ferns, he dropped his mouth at seeing his first mystery dungeon. When the wind blew, the leaves made it seem like thousands of wind tunnels whooshed by, and the air felt cooler, more relaxing.

"How the heck is there a forest here?" Larkin asked, still rubbing his head, "What the!"

A sentret charged at him, so he punched its furry face. The furball lied limp on the ground and slowly got up.

"You okay?" Larkin stepped forward towards the pokémon while it whined.

Delilah shoved Larkin off onto the ground and used Thundershock, pulsing sparks onto it. It recoiled away, smoke trailing on it. Despite the hit frying its fur, the sentret jumped up and away down the path. It screeched at them and slapped the mossy ground with its massive tail to speed off.

"What was that for? The ground's wet here, you know," Larkin said, brushing dirt and grass off his chest and face.

"It's a mystery dungeon, wild pokémon are extra-dangerous here." She scanned around the room. She stepped to the path's side and demonstrated that her paw could not penetrate the dense rows of birch, oak, and ferns. "And this is a wall caused by a spacial rift."

"Spacial rift?" Larkin looked around and found no entrance from where he came from. "Wait! How are we getting out?"

She patted his head and smirked. "Aw, it'll be fine. If you die in a mystery dungeon, you appear outside of it perfectly fine—without any items."

"That still sounds painful. Look, we're here to rescue a merchant, so we can't just kill him and leave his stuff." Larkin crossed his arms and Delilah giggled.

"Relax. We escort him to the exit of the dungeon, and then we get our reward—"

"Behind you!" Larkin jumped on Delilah's back and punching the sentret back again. The punch hit, but the furball rolled away to safety. Unfortunately, Delilah's static paralyzed his legs, and he found himself only able to crawl. "This is getting old."

"I intended to shock that sentret. Sorry." She grabbed Larkin's shoulder with her mouth and walked forward.

A minute later, Larkin walked again. "Thanks for that ride."

"And thanks for covering my back."

Larkin smiled and said they should get this done with. More sentrets, and only sentrets, pounced on them, but they ran away as soon as anyone fought back.

Sometimes they dropped from the tree branches, but they would vanish before the leaves landed.

When they encountered a set of marble stairs growing from the middle of the forest floor, Delilah encouraged him to go up. _Freaky_, he thought, stepping onto the stairs as if testing water before swimming_._ It seemed like the stairs were just a five meter tall block. However, a new forest floor like the previous one awaited them once they were halfway up the stairs. This new floor shouldn't even have existed, but here it was. _What the?_ He looked down and behind, noticing the stairs vanish and Delilah causally strolling by.

"What just happened?"

"You went up one-way stairs." She shrugged. "It's normal."

They reached new floors. Each one differed from before, and more of the furballs attacked in each level.

One slammed Larkin's face with its tail, but Delilah finally sank her claws in. When it screeched, she stabbed it by using Thunder Fang, leaving a burnt fur smell in the air and an unconscious sentret with a deep bite draining blood.

She shoved it to the ground and licked her stomach and then Larkin's belly growled. _Wait, no way,_ he thought,_ How am I this hungry? It's only been half an hour._ Indeed, the sight of a possible meal sickly awakened his gut to its shortage.

"You've never eaten fresh?" She tapped the body, "Don't worry, it's not a big deal, I'll cut it up for you."

"Ew, raw meat. Don't berries grow in the forest?"

"There aren't berries here," she said. "You're a fire-type, so cook it with your hands." She stuck one claw in and opened the body up. Larkin looked away in repulsion and Delilah said, "I let you get away with looking awful with your fur, but you _will_ eat this. You won't last till the end of the dungeon otherwise."

_This is going to be just like goo, but I don't wanna quit,_ Larkin thought, sighing and walking over to see what slices he would get. _Damn me, I am hungry! _His stomach felt like it squeezed him empty of air with each breath of the mystic breeze._ Eh, fine, it can't be that bad if she's so eager_.

Larkin nodded and started the meal. After that was done, and Larkin wiped Delilah's blue fur of any red, they moved on. At least an empty stomach made anything taste good, and he didn't her to growl for him refusing a meal.

After two more floors of dodging fur, they found paths with mud and moss slashed off and blasted against trees. Curious, but Larkin figured feral pokémon have their fights, too. Later, around a corner, a slimy mud pool flooded ten meters of the path as if a giant Water Gun blasted it.

"Huh, he didn't say who was the merchant. Perhaps he's a water-type?" Larkin stuck a toe in the mud. _Feels swimmable_, he thought. He put his whole foot in, and cringed from the chill, but it wasn't damaging.

"Larkin, shouldn't we search for another way around?" Delilah turned her head back.

"After how you made me eat that earlier, I say swim or lose the mission." His knees dropped in.

"Grr, look, maybe we didn't look hard enough for another route?" Larkin's waist buried in. "Wait, won't going in kill your flame and yourself?"

"Losing the flame isn't sufficient to kill me." His chest dropped in and his arms shifted through the gunk. He continued forward and swam, noticing that there wasn't a solid floor that he could feel in the watery gunk. Looking back, he noticed her cringing and nervously biting her lip. _Wow, her fur looks like gold and sapphire. Well, she has to go this way,_ he thought, and then an idea hit him.

He brought his tail tip down into the mud. The pain kicked down his tail, and he let out a faked scream, "Ah!" His head went under, and he smiled as soon as he held his breath and closed his eyes.

"Larkin?" her muffled voice echoed above. A few seconds went by while he held his breath in the darkness. Feeling that to be inadequate he released some air bubbles, and then a mud piercing yell hit him, "Larkin!" He heard a splash, and her mouth stuck around his arm. She pulled his muddy fur up into the sunlight.

As soon as his eyes opened and he laughed, her scared face turned into a snarl and she threw him forward. Larkin chuckled, wiped the mud off his face, and laughed. "But really, we have to walk through this." He trudged through the last portion with Delilah frowning at him the whole way. She would shock him for that later, he believed, but it was worth it.

When he reached the end, Delilah shouted, "Help!"

He turned and two sentrets pounded on Delilah's head. "I can't use electricity in here!" Her head sank in after they both slammed her.

He breathed in deeply, calling on his flame; however, he only coughed up smoke. _I guess I need a lit tail to attack_. He clenched his chest, cursing himself for his stupid prank. He flowed heat into the tail, but the water made ignition futile.

Panic struck him when he saw the sentrets wall jumping and pouncing off of her head. Each attack knocked her into the mud over and over, but she persisted in getting up and throwing her jaws at them. _Wait, wall-jumping, I'm a monkey_... He took a breath, clenched a fist, and leaped to the side.

He bounced off the walls of trees, and ruined one sentret's face with a fist of gunk. Larkin's knuckles screamed at him as if the furball's bones were bricks.

The other sentret tackled Larkin and shoved his head into the mud. Flailing about, he tried tearing the fuzz ball off. However, it wrapped its tail around him and pounded him from above. Mud reached his tongue and he coughed. Realizing that he almost inhaled mud, he clawed everything he could, then grabbed that tail and snapped it. _Take that,_ he thought, feeling the bones in the tail crack. The tail's grasp subsided as if the pain forced it to let go.

But when he reached behind to flip it into the mud, it wasn't there. Something else grabbed his arm and pulled him up, so he attacked.

Now he saw light and brown. He punched again. He saw gold and blue, and when his fist landed again, Delilah's eyes locked onto his and she growled.

Larkin saw the muddy fist prints on her forehead and darted his fist back. "My bad. Let's move on." Mud dripped off both of their eyebrows.

Next to her, both sentrets lied on the surface with fang marks in their hides. She stopped growling at him, and he noticed the blood dripping from her muzzle.

"Look, I panicked, I punched everywhere and didn't know what to do."

"I know the feeling. Thanks for the save." She hurled him forward and they eventually got out of the path of mud. Larkin wiped himself free of the dirt for a minute, and then Delilah shook her body dry in only five seconds. This splattered mud all over the walls and onto Larkin's somewhat clean fur.

"Aww." Larkin sighed, but he smiled, figuring he deserved it. Delilah stood up with her tail high and strolled forward. She looked about seventy-five percent of her best now while Larkin's fur leaked with each step. At least his tail relit, but his soggy fur kept chilling his skin.

In that next room, a blaziken coughed and sat in a corner with a spear lying at his side. Water dripped from his face, and steam rose off of him. He looked at them."What the hell are you here for?"

"Rescuing a merchant," he said, looking around the grass and mud splattered room, "Never imagined you to be a merchant, Ver."

"How did you get here so fast?" Ver adjusted he strap of his backpack.

"Ask the golem and rhydon that gave us the job. Anyway, let's help you out," Delilah said, "But, how'd you end up here? Is there a threat nearby?"

Ver muttered something about being surprised but then he shrugged and tapped his claws on the spear. "I knocked out one pokémon in a pair of thieves. Actually, we'll be fine." Ver leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as if this was a Sunday sunbath.

"You are not concerned about the thieves coming back?" Larkin gazed down a hall, thankfully finding nobody. _Thieves? Why are we expected to defend him if he's so much stronger?_ he thought, remembering how Ver outran that luxray.

A loud crash came from down another hall. Ver tapped the mossy grass beside him and told them to sit, and relax.

A black figure popped into existence beside Ver. Larkin and Delilah hopped back.

"You!" Larkin and Delilah said, growling. Sweeping his red sarape, and adjusting his facecloth, he looked away from them, but they stepped forward. "What do you want?"

Ver rubbed his arm, which had a gash down it, and patted the grass harder.

"Two thieves are coming this way thanks to my illusion. I'm going to teleport them to Low Plains Town and publicly execute them." He strolled over to Ver. "Here's your money. I'll take that tobacco." He slapped five gold coins in Ver's lap and cut the bag off of him. Taking the bag up, he stood and walked forward. His fluffy black tail seeped from under his coat and through his pants and it carried moss.

A bibarel and jellicent rushed into view down a forested hall. They screamed, "Blackcade!" and ran away. Blackcade's paws and glowed purple, and they froze in a purple aura.

"You're gonna kill someone over this? You could teleport to the tobacco field and get it! This isn't worth it," Larkin shouted.

Despite the protest, the captured pokémon flew to his feet, dragging their fur against the sod. As if to show off, he forced the bibarel's face to eat dirt, crushing her nose against a rock underneath.

The bibarel's beaver tail and the jellicent's cloudy jelly form hovered in front of him without him moving his paws. He pulled off his red sarape and threw it over them. "Lovely, I'm going to annoy the Water Fraternity again."

Blackcade drew his silver cutlass, and turned his body to face his chest parallel to Larkin's line of sight. With a tap of the metal on the pokémon. The red blanket covered their eyes, but the sword cut into their flesh, carving through and making bloodless cuts. He kept at this, appearing to silently and blindly cut at the pair.

"You say it's not worth it?" Blackcade chuckled, and said, "I've cut all the tendons of this bibarel. You stop thieves by making the public hear them beg for mercy. Make them helpless to crawl from under the blanket. Make them dread every second with random stabs." He patted the covered pokémon with his feet. "By the way, screw you, Larkin, maybe I'm too busy to teleport and harvest tobacco."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You assigned me all of the homework in Sections 1 to 3. You're a jerk, and this is your fault." The three of them vanished

"Seems he values tobacco and homework more than pokémon." Delilah pushed Larkin's hand down that was pointing at Blackcade, "Nothing we can do now."

Larkin clenched his fists and sighed. "Maybe we'll get back at him another day."

"You truly are ignorant." Ver chuckled. "Focus on more important things, like my wounds, rescuers."

"We'll get you out," Larkin said, then he realized that he earned five gold coins, and Ver dumped him earlier. "But at what price?"

"Excuse me?" Even Delilah stepped back in astonishment at that, but Larkin continued:

"You gave the most half-assed farewell when you left me with Krauss. Sure, you stayed away from me, but, for goodness sake, can you at least care about how I am after we ran together for over a week?"

Ver said, "Because after you came by, Toby..." he paused and looked away after he scanned Larkin's body.

"What? What about Toby?" Ver's gaze locked onto Larkin's body for some moments, and he chuckled.

"Dang. He was right." Ver said, wiping a cut on his leg, "You are an elite. I thought you were an illusion that I needed to drop off, but you're real. Blackcade acknowledges you, and your strength went from nothing to that."

"Huh? But I'm still weak. Are you sure?" Larkin looked to Delilah. "Delilah?" She smiled at him coyly and didn't reply.

"I'm sure of it. Like I said." He grunted and lowered his head, "You went from pathetic to weak in short time."

"So he is like the other forty." Her rigid blue tail wagged.

"Maybe I'll be better than you, Elite Ver." He huffed and turned away from them. This startled a vulpix attempting to hide around a corner. Larkin waved at him "Oh great, more ferals."

"Heh, uh, hello." He raised his head, confirming he was not wild "And hello, Delilah."

"Oh god no." She sighed and put her eyes in her paws. Her tail stopped wagging and some sparks flew off her fur. "Just let me deal with that moron if he comes closer."

"Right." He turned back to Ver. "Give us each a coin, apologize, and make yourself useful, Ver. Delilah has a bag of band-aids, too."

Some blood stains seeped onto the grass and moss around him. However, he stood up and nodded.

"While you're at it, tell us why the hell you traded with Blackcade."

"Fine, you win, I was a dick. But you oughta make me team leader." He huffed and turned away. "Anyway, I needed the money, Larkin. Everything was supposed to be fine." Larkin rolled his eyes, half in pity and half in disgust, but at least he would get a share.

"May I suggest a team name?" Paw steps came from behind.

"Can't you leave me alone, Leroy?" Delilah asked, "And I thought I was the team leader."

The vulpix said, "Yeah, Team V, V for va—"

Delilah shocked him and he dropped just like Larkin did when he touched her at the wrong time. The fox's brown eyes crashed onto the dirt and his tails slumped against a wall of trees.

"Isn't that a bit much?" Larkin glanced back.

"Trust me." She jumped onto her feet. "He's trouble, and we've had enough of that today."

* * *

Upon exiting through a bright tunnel, their damp feet walked on the dry dirt in front of Krauss's Tavern.

Larkin jerked his head around, finding pokémon glancing at them with burritos cooling in paws and carts idle. They were supposed to be devouring, shipping, and talking, so he checked his fur for some embarrassing cheese stain.

Ver turned Larkin's head towards the center of the little town square.

"Oh," he whispered, noticing bloody dirt around a red blanket. When water-types surrounding the covered bodies glared at him, he sank his head and held his hands in front of him.

Worse yet, that uncle's voice arose from the totodiles and swamperts, "You three came from the same dungeon." A gust of wind blew by, and a cloth flapped from behind the uncle and other water-types like a psyduck. Larkin nodded, raising his head, and the swampert rubbed his face as if rubbing the stress out of his frown.

The uncle looked up at them. "It's obvious that Blackcade planned to kill someone because he disposed of his blanket as a burial rag. No, not just a rag—a game—and we heard every scream."

"And why are you looking at me like that?" Larkin crossed his arms. "It's a tragedy they died, but it's Blackcade—a bastard."

"That's the same reason he gave us, but I can't help but think you three helped kill them."

Larkin shook his head. and many pokémon leaned in from over their balconies and muttered among themselves. When he pointed his arm forward and opened his mouth, Ver pushed him back.

"Screw off." Ver licked a bruise on his wrist. "I'm still sore after those two attacked me." He pointed his arm at his teammates. "And you imply these two could do anything against them? No. Blackcade did it all."

"And why would they attack you?"

"Maybe because Blackcade mind controlled them," he shouted, "Your charges are stupid. Blackcade needs _no_ help killing." His legs twitched likely due to the stinging pain.

"Well, darn." Krauss the Feraligatr walked up from behind, shining the gold medallion on his collar. "Son, this bickering isn't helping. Get the families here and have the bodies buried." Krauss patted his back.

The swampert sighed and walked away while glaring at Ver and the rest.

Delilah turned her head up and away from him. "Have a nice day," she said sarcastically.

"Ahem." The water gator stomped up to Larkin with his claws out. "Give me back the collar and move out of your room. You were good, but Blackcade's presence is a bit much." His other hand put five cold silver coins in his Larkin's hands

Larkin noticed a blood splatter going across the road, onto the porch, and onto a sandshrew's white belly. The bloodied pokémon had shut his eyes. A sandslash wiped his tears from behind.

_T__his sucks_, he thought and detached the collar. He handed over the muddy and unrecognizable collar. He also needed a new bag.

Delilah and Ver held their head low in the sun.

Krauss said to Ver, "Do your job."

_J__ob? What was he talking about?_ Larkin thought, turning his head towards Ver while trying to ignore the dozens of eyes focused on them. When Larkin noticed two oran berries, his eyes stared down in surprise, helping him be distracted from his surroundings.

"Good luck, Ver." He backed off, and turned around with his tail barely missing them.

When the sandslash glared her black eyes at Larkin, the monferno huffed and turned to walk away. "Pah. Now what?"

"Oh, it's just a monthly execution," someone in the crowd said, somewhat easing Larkin's worries. However, Others whispered rumors of Blackcade forcing him to read, causing him to sigh and flex his neck down.

"Larkin, where you going?" Delilah asked, jumping over to him. Her dirt covered face hovered over his side. Ver's spear pole tapped the ground by the side while he walked with him, and Larkin redirected his head to get Delilah's face out of his view.

However, she breathed above his head until Ver told her to back off.

"I dunno." He shrugged, slapping his silver coins into his bag. "You know more, so what's next?" Larkin asked, realizing that he wouldn't have access to the food and rooming anymore.

"More missions and rewards, I guess," Delilah said.

"Sorry, not that easy," Ver said.

"Really, Mister Team Leader?" Larkin asked, focusing on the dirt instead of astonished merchants and neighborhood kids.

"Let's be realistic, you're uncertified and unassociated, so you'd get the worst jobs." Ver sighed. "It's practically volunteering... so you two should work as day laborers when the hemp comes and I'll train you both—"

"That work sucks." Delilah huffed.

_If both options suck, then maybe there are other choices_, he thought. He started to ask, but Larkin found his voice trampled over while they talked. He raised his head and found Ver glaring at the manectric.

"Well, then." The blaziken wagged a claw tip at her. "What even is your team's name? You should have a name if you're going to be a rescue team."

"Larkin, do you have any ideas?"

"A moment, please." He put his hand on his head to try and focus despite the pokémon spreading news of an execution around him.

"So much blood, and it was so sharp." Too bad they wouldn't be quiet as they were earlier, but he kept thinking and shooed Delilah's paw away so he could keep walking and processing ideas.

"Team Thunder."

"Oh come on, Delilah." Ver shoved her against Larkin, sending bristles of fur against his face. "Blazing Flames is more like it."

"Sounds like a gay bar."

Ver narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her.

"Stop it." Larkin came forward and nudged Ver's knee away. "Are we really in the right state of mind to think about this right now?"

She glanced away. "Clearly, the bird feels a name is more important than his own wounds."

"Speaking of, did you join a conspiracy to hurt me, and then profit off me by rescuing?"

"I am not a psycho." Larkin clenched his fists and exchanged a glare with Ver.


	5. Chapter 4: Thunder for a Day

**Chapter 4: Thunder for a Day**

"Then why did Blackcade do nothing to us?" Delilah cut in front of Larkin before he said the same thing.

Ver huffed and stared down on them. "Fair point," he said, "But who gave you the mission?"

"A golem and rhydon" Larkin walked forward, almost throwing dust on the blaziken's legs with each step, "Maybe they'll be at the Minter Tavern if you seriously believe the conspiracy stuff."

"So they set this up."

"I understand that you got soaked." She tapped her nose on his knee, "But those were fully certified members of Dice Guild." Ver stopped and his eyes sank down as if probing deep into his memory.

Delilah and Larkin waved their paws and hands at him, silently signaling for him to get back into the conversation.

"Dice Guild..." he muttered, "Of course, my mistake. There's no way those two would harm a former member. They must have ticked off Blackcade before this."

"Sure." She leaned her head towards the monferno and glanced her eyes from his own to Ver's.

Ver nodded and apologized for ever doubting them, but this raised doubts in Larkin. He didn't know what Dice Guild was, and why didn't Ver tell him about it? His questions went unanswered when Ver nodded and raised his chin to the sky.

"But we need to talk about work, and team name and leadership if we're going to move forward."

Delilah rolled her eyes and pushed herself between Larkin and him. "Unless you get us started on the certification process, then we'll just adventure on our own." She stomped her foot on the ground, "I did it as an electrike, and you act like that isn't an option."

"That could be fun," Larkin said.

Ver frowned and pointed at her. "Then enlighten me later." He crossed his arms and scanned the street for young water-types playing and hitting each other with lit torches. Their yelps of joy and pain overcame the gossip of the murder. "But there's only one way we're going to get along—no team leader."

Delilah scoffed, "Good, you realize you have to earn that rank."

Ver huffed and closed his eyes.

"As for that team name..." She lifted her head up and hummed in thought.

"I got it." Larkin swung his eyes between her and the fire-type. "Phoenix-Thunder. Good enough for you?"

Delilah said, "I love it."

"Fine, Phoenix-Thunder it is." Ver patted her head and Larkin's shoulders. "Now don't disappoint me."

"Same to you." The monferno followed him.

* * *

"Why did you join an eating contest?" Larkin held Delilah over his back and staggered into the hostel lobby. She smelled strongly of herbs and mint, and he coughed when she breathed on him playfully. He stepped through the giant, open doors, feeling the hostel press air into him that was free of smoke. Instead of pokémon kicking and dancing on barrels, fountains trickled along the wall. _Finally_, he thought, sighing.

A krookodile wearing a straw hat stood up from behind his basalt table to greet them, but a braviary's still feathered leg stuck out from his bloody gator jaws. "Good, Ver's expecting you."

Larkin's eyes froze on his mouth. His gleaming white teeth, his silver razor claws, and his belly large enough to fit two chimchars forced Larkin to step back and shudder. A long napkin tied around his neck hanged over his chest, and feathers clung to it.

"Uh, uhh—" For a hostel lobby, Larkin felt that the crystal fountain should have been flowing with blood at that time. Moreover, the receptionist desk had fine hardwood cemented into the sandstone wall, but it needed an alcohol scrubbing due to that messy meal.

He slapped the leg onto the table and choked out a few feathers. "He was a rude guest." He smiled and chuckled darkly. Larkin turned around, but Delilah bit his shoulder. He looked into her reddened sclera and freshly groomed face, and she smirked. _Is she crazy? There's a monster here!_

He spun around, but, when he jumped towards the door, she pushed off of him. "Delilah!" he yelled and pulled on her feet. "We have to go!"

However, she rolled and laughed in joy on the sandy floor as if she were in a flower field to scratch her back. _Shit!_ he thought, tugging harder and feeling her push away over and over, _She's gone crazy, I knew she shouldn't have done that stuff_.

Delilah jumped up and pinned him to the floor with her hind legs. He couldn't push her off with only one arm free, and she peeked between her legs to smirk at him.

Her eyes closed and her head tilted in joy like when she smoked earlier. "No, silly." She laughed. "It's a predator joke."

"Yeah." He sighed and shook his head as if it should have been obvious to Larkin. "I eat only feral pokémon."

Delilah jumped off and Larkin stood up while rubbing his shoulders.

It felt like she crushed him against the rocky floor. "It sure wasn't funny." He turned to him. "I thought you would eat me."

"Not you, at least. I would love to nibble that damn vulpix though." He crossed his arms. "I caught him peeking through _my_ window."

"Wow," Larkin and Delilah said, "You too?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I saw him staring at me while I was working in Krauss's Tavern."

"And I electrocuted him."

"Ha, sweet." He picked his teeth with his claw tips. "I'll give you both a royal free breakfast tomorrow. Enjoy your stay, and call me Cranzigger." He patted Larkin and Delilah's heads after they stated their names, and he went back behind his table to eat under crystal lamp light on his creaky wooden chair.

Delilah leaned on Larkin while they walked down the hallway of sandstone tile floor. Her weight almost pushed him against the reinforced compressed earth walls, so he straightened her up and said, "You can't be that tired."

"Ha ha..." She licked the tip of his ear and nuzzled his neck.

He jumped away and turned around, keeping his palms out to stay dry and block her muzzle.

Somehow, she smiled wider and bared her teeth wider than a mightyena receiving a fresh steak. She walked forward, passing Larkin and saying, "Sleepy time!"

_This is weird,_ he thought, tracing each jerk of her head, _But I won't argue as long as she doesn't bathe me in saliva. _He tip-toed behind her. Maybe she would get the terrible idea to paralyze him and drag him to sleep in her unstable state.

After all, she knocked on the heavy wooden door with her head.

"Delilah, that's bad for your head." He reached for her ear, but she jerked her head away.

"Just after sunset, I see." Ver answered the door and let them both enter before she resumed her beating.

"Yes, yes, rooster boy." She nodded her head quickly, giggled, and walked in, leaving Ver stunned.

He looked at Larkin, perhaps seeking an answer for why she said that insult with such joy. The monferno sighed and whispered that she had laughed after smoking things called "joints" and getting a full belly.

"She had fun. What about you?" Larkin walked beyond the door, but the blaziken merely scoffed and fell onto his blankets lying on the floor.

Inside, a meditite opened her eyes while floating and meditating. "Delilah?" She floated away from her straw mat in the shared room.

"Mandy?" She looked at each of the four straw mats and then at her black eyes. "Ohh, sorry, I have to sleep." Her eyes shut and she laid her legs out to sleep on her belly. By the time Larkin reached her, she snoozed.

The meditite sighed and shook her head. "I'm not Mandy." She snapped her fingers at Larkin and Ver to grab attention. "I am Melida... But I'm glad she didn't recognize me."

"Why's that?" Ver asked, locking the door and stepping towards the lit lamp in the center of the room.

She stared at Delilah, perhaps checking that she was asleep, and said, "I'm a Blackcade watcher, but so was she... and you know how girls act when there's one male they both want." She giggled and floated back to her mat. With a turn, she faced away and said, "Now I see we both lost."

"What are you—"

"Going to bed, don't bother me."

Ver shrugged at Larkin and pointed to his mat.

_Fine, be that way_, he thought, sitting on the cloth.

Moon and starlight passed through a small circular window and landed on him. The sky held a cloud of bright red celestial dust and stars that seemed bright, yet they couldn't illuminate the streets like the torches and dancers could.

He checked on Delilah, finding her eyes sealed. _Good, she'll be fine_, he thought, _And I can finally relax without her jumping on everyone. _He pressed his hands together when he thought, _But is she fine? She hasn't talked about the West or her past_. No sense in disturbing her now over it, but maybe she would tell him later. Before he fell asleep, that krookodile's complaints about the vulpix hit his mind, but he was in here, and he was out there.

* * *

Delilah awoke the next morning and exchanged a mutual glare with Melida the Meditite. "So unpleasant to see a challenger again." She smirked. "How's life with that rubbish Leroy?"

She crossed her arms and frowned at the manectric.

Larkin chuckled, nudging Ver to awaken him

"He may have learned a few things from Blackcade." She stared out the window at the clear sky. "Yet he still can't flirt."

"Ha." She turned towards the door and strutted out of the room. "Neither can you."

She scoffed, shutting her eyes and waving for her to leave the sandstone room.

Once she reached the hallway, Ver slapped Larkin away. He groaned and raised his back from the ground as if he slammed his head against the wall during his sleep. The blaziken said good-morning.

To his surprise, Melida said, "I don't care for you, either, Ver."

Larkin to pulled him out of the room before that psychic-type exploded her head on them. Of course, they also quietly recovered their items, not disturbing her.

"Did I miss something?" Ver whispered, strolling down the hall

"Yeah," the electric-type said, shoving a paper against his chest. "Breakfast and news. Royal and free." Ver grabbed it and slapped his mouth.

_Hmph,_ Larkin thought, _She's quick to distract us from that Melida_. _Not my business._

"Whoa, I'm not doing this—"

She nodded. "This is an easy mission, so don't chicken out."

He sighed and shook his head. "What do you think, Larkin?" He nearly rubbed it against his face. He grabbed the sheet, and he felt fascinated by it. After all, Cranzigger must have placed these papers on every door, so it must have been a worthy task. Reading it further only confirmed his suspicion.

"Freeing an overpunished petty thief in a low-level mission?" Larkin asked, smiling up at the blaziken's face. His beak gritted and towered over him as if to say that Ver knew best and that this idea was stupid. How dull! "Why not? It sounds so just to do it."

"This is going to piss off Sword's Guild." Ver leaned down and shook his head.

"As if Sword's opinions matter." Delilah licked Larkin's ear. "Come on."

"You're right, but you'll get hurt."

Delilah started to object, but Larkin talked over her, flashing the text at the blaziken, "Five weeks of slavery for stealing one thing, despite admitting to it and giving the coin back?" He spun away from him and muttered, "Didn't you see the judge's recommendations for release on the sheet? She ought to be clear, they said, and don't you think so, too?"

"I'm glad you see it my way." She pointed her nose down the sun lit halls of sand. "But first, we should try some breakfast. Smells like fried bird."

* * *

The gallade ate a pecha puff pastry and scorned them. "Let me guess." He spun the desert over his hand with telekinesis, "You, too, heard a _low _level transport held that convict?"

Larkin nodded and stepped forward, but Delilah jumped to his side and nudged his ear. "That's Sword. Don't even think of hitting him."

Larkin stopped. Upon scanning the frown, bulges of muscle, and a distinct blue aura flooding off his head, he gulped and thought, _Is that pure energy radiating off him? Oh gosh, __is he Bluecade or something?_

The gallade chuckled, teleporting the sweet treat in front of him, and then to his opposite hand.

Larkin rubbed his nose at him, hiding how his legs twitched as if urging him to leap off the road. _Dang it, I jogged an hour for "training" as Ver said, so I gotta try something_. He bowed to the pokémon.

"Guildmaster Sword." He stood back up. "Please unpearl the buneary." It was good that Delilah earlier explained pearling as a means to capture and hold.

"At least someone said please." He bit again at the treat. "He's more polite than you, Ver."

"It's such a simple task, Sword." Ver shrugged and waved his claws. "It's just a thief being way overheld."

He leaned down and patted Larkin's head, disregarding the blaziken. "You seem ignorant, kid," he whispered, staring his red eyes into Larkin's purple ones, "When I suspect a pokémon of being a Western agent, I hold them longer than usual."

The monferno shuddered from feeling such iron hard fingers pass through his hair.

"The fact that her memories seem fake means that she won't be free until I work things out."

"But you could lie or screw up."

Sword bit his lip and muttered a low growl. "I don't lie, I make mistakes. And I pay victims well for my mistakes."

Ver chuckled, but Sword looked up and down the monkey's face.

Dust blew by from the corn field on the left, dirtying his pastry that somewhat melted in the sun.

"And I've heard strange things about you, purple-eyes." He grabbed Larkin's chin and locked him in its grip. "Maybe you need to follow me so we can talk."

"That would be a mistake for the both of us." He hanged out his tongue, letting saliva dripple towards the stranger's green hands. Sword's eyes glowed blue for a moment, and the spit jumped back into the monkey's mouth.

"Be serious," he said, "Why's Blackcade talking with you?"

Larkin narrowed his eyelids. "No. He talked to me—over me, in fact. I'm good at something Blackcade isn't, and I guess he won't stop until he's equalized with me." He smirked.

"And what may that be?"

"It's very simple." He grabbed his shoulder. "In fact, if you can't do it, then you will hand over that pearl."

He smiled and said, "A bet? I agree, but if I solve the problem, expect a month's stay in the Distorted World." He titled his head, taunting him with a smirk.

"Larkin, don't." Delilah toed towards him on the dirt

The fire-type waved his arm back at Delilah, making her step back. "It's not worth it."

"Please, Sword," Larkin said, squeezing his shoulder and finding it as hard as steel, "Your honor is like Blackcade. Holding a pokémon on a whim? I'm sure that my question can best you like it did to him." In reply, Sword grit his teeth and shoved off of the fire-type.

"Let's get this over with. It better be an easy one, too." He tapped a club hanging from his backpack.

"No, Larkin," Ver shouted, pumping his fist at him, "He'll read your mind."

He reached into his bag, pulled out a yellow book, and flipped to the first few pages. He showed one page to Sword. "That one."

"Of course zero isn't equal to one. That's easy."

"It said prove the statement."

"Proof?"

"Like these ones." He pointed at some paragraphs.

He grabbed the book and scanned through the pages. The book glowed blue, and he flipped back and forth in the first chapter. "I've fought the West, freed slaves, pearled murderers, and evacuated our prisoners of war from rape, but this." He shook his head and bit his lip. "This is pure evil."

"Give up yet?"

"Of course not." He flipped to the back of the book.

Larkin smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "You dishonor yourself."

"Pardon?"

"That's the answers section of the book." He took a folded piece of paper from his bag. "And I ripped the page out that had the answer."

"I didn't know the answers were back there."

"I remember thinking about the answer in the back." He waved the paper in the wind. "However, I've always kept it separate from the book to tease Blackcade during lectures."

Ver crossed his arms and shook his head at Sword. Delilah also voiced her disgust. Sword growled and threw the book to Larkin. He crossed his arms and looked away.

"That was not simple like you promised."

"It's Chapter 0, and Krauss understood it in under an hour." He thumbed his nose at him. "He would agree that it's simple. Therefore, you lose."

He grumbled and picked through a pocket on the side of his bag. "I've had enough. Take her." He tossed a greenish orb to him. "A fine trick, but I won't waste any more time with you." He took out a notepad, wrote on it, and handed him a sheet. He pointed the feather pen at Ver. "Seriously? Bringing a math wiz with you on your team? That won't get you anywhere."

"A successful mission is going nowhere?" Ver asked.

"That's not what I meant," he said, raising his chin at him, "You're an elite, too. We don't know why we exist, but when I learned that Greg and Pascal's forces enslaved half of Meadow Bowl..." He lowered his head and closed his eyes. "Well, that reminded me of how pathetic you are to waste your powers and body away by sunbathing up at Toby's farm."

He stomped past Larkin, leaving him alone with faint cries from a female inside the pearl. Larkin whispered assurances into the pearl, calming it down. Meanwhile, Sword ate the last of his food and stuck his sugar coated tongue out at the blaziken.

"How about you do something meaningful with you and your team." He shook his head again, forcing Ver to lower his head in shame.

Larkin, too, felt guilt in him. Then again, he dismissed that since he could hardly curl his own weight so far.

"Hmph, who says it's his team?" Delilah mumbled at the gallade.

Sword waved his hand at her, dismissing her while he strolled down the farm road. When he glanced at the manectric, Larkin swore that his eyes glimmered before turning away and humming.

* * *

Larkin was sitting on the top of a marble staircase when Delilah said, "I know that smell."

"Smells like you that night," he said, watching carts and pokémon roll on the road in front of him on the road. To him, it smelled like weed, perhaps a little minty, but his nose wasn't as good as hers.

She huffed and pointed at one covered wagon. "That one's from my neighbor's cannabis field." She tracked it as if it were feral prey in the grass.

Larkin, too, traced his eyes around the dry mud caked wheels, and he realized it must have come from a wetter climate.

"Tell me, Larkin, do you remember your family?"

"Uh, no." He shrugged and laid his hand on the marble pillar beside him. "Do you think it should bother me?"

"In times like these." She shut her eyes and faced the fruit stands in front of her with her head lowered. "It's better that you don't remember."

Each second of her silence forced his urges to comfort her to rise more and more. There had to some injustice that happened to her back home, but he believed that asking her what was wrong would send her walking away on her own. Sword's words to Ver rang in his head and faced Larkin. If he was whatever an "elite" is, then it would be a waste to stay a janitor.

Considering Krauss's warnings of the West coming into town one day, it probably would be deadly to content himself with a broom and waste bin, too.

Eventually, he broke that hesitation and patted her neck. Sensing no electrocution, he said, "It was fun to sprint and weightlift with you and Ver today after freeing that pearl."

She opened her eyes and glanced at him, listening so intently that he bit his lip and re-thought his next words. "I... I mean, can't I do better than Ver?"

She smiled at him and nuzzled his cheek. "Despite his bad practices, you saw a point after that stunt of yours?" She grabbed his hand with her two paws. "Sword is a jerk, but look around you."

He did so, finding nothing except a community sitting outside of their houses to eat pie, sing like a muk got in their throats, and paint murals of history, work, and family. In short, it reminded him that he only had Delilah, Krauss, and possibly Ver to be with. Indeed, taking a bath may have earned him that slice of apple pie and laughter.

"No thugs pushing around, you see?"

"Charming," Sword said.

They spun their heads back to see him walking out of the Arceus painted interior of the courthouse. He dusted his pink scarf, letting it shine in their faces.

"You heard it all, didn't you?" Larkin asked, tapping his fingers together nervously.

"Yes." He stopped beside Larkin and stared down at Delilah. She seemed confused if she should bite him or thank him for the compliment and the eavesdropping. "It is beautiful. Hundreds of families out there with fraternities for each pokémon type. I don't have a sob story about my family, if they existed, but I have an obligation even if I just got out of court for supposed 'wrong doing.'" He pulled an empty pearl from his bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Delilah Thisbe." He threw the pearl up and down like a baseball. "You came from the most radical part of Terrell's land claims, and you thought I wouldn't notice an old bite mark hidden on your shoulder." He pointed there, causing her to hide it with her head.

"You read her mind?" He frowned at him.

"It's not what you think."

"Since you can't escape, I'll offer you something," he said, and Larkin felt an invisible force pat his head like a pet. He pointed at the manectric. "But not you. You've been with those monsters like Pascal for at least five years."

"What's he talking about?" Larkin turned towards her. He shook his head, trying to dismiss those nonsensical fears and focus on her growls at Sword.

"No! I'm a good lady." She shook her head. "It's my mate's—"

"That's a _good_ fake memory." He turned down to Larkin and smirked. "She'll be dropped off at Dice Guild, near Toby's place in a week. If you really believe she's fine like those Great Mesans would think." He waved his empty hand out at him as if swatting a fly away. "Then you and Ver can go meet her yourself… before they get her executed."

"You bastard." She jumped to her feet and growled. "I rejected those tyrants and their gods."

"There will be momentary discomfort." The interior of her throat glowed blue and her mouth snapped shut. Her whole body twitched as if Sword overrode each attempt to move.

"Stop!" Larkin yelled, flaming up his fists and punching his shin. One knuckle felt like it broke, so he cringed, threw that fist behind him and slammed another into his leg. That, too, felt like he landed on bricks of steel. He grit his teeth and suppressed his scream.

"What the? Are you solid metal?" He glanced at Delilah, watching her eyes squirm and struggle out of the grip.

Sword lightly kicked him onto his back. "Soon, I hope you'll understand our power."

"Delilah, stay with me," he said, finding himself only able to ease her suffering from the beast. If only he had a sleep seed or something. He groaned and got onto his knees. Her eyes swiveled violently as if Sword sliced her organs one by one. Despite how he patted her back and stroked her neck, she would be choked out and left to shudder hopelessly in pain. "I'll meet you there, I swear." He hugged around her neck, and the contractions in her throat subsided.

Eventually, her eyes rested on Larkin's, and shed tears. Their eye contact remained until her body vanished into a thousand bright birds flying into the pearl. When she was gone, all that Larkin had left of her were wet marks on his arms.

"Don't take it personally." He stashed the pearl into his bag. "Guild members, family heads, and more have died to undercover assassins." Pokémon around them muttered questions and insults among themselves concerning Sword.

"I'm supposed to act like that never happened?" he whispered, whipping tears with his bloodied hands. "What if you had a good couple chats and days with a friend? What if you slept by his sick bed? Then what if I killed that friend of yours?"

For a moment, Sword glanced away, holding a straight face despite pokémon muttering and gazing at him. He gazed towards the blue sky, clenched a fist and put it over his heart, then jerked his head towards the monkey. He opened his mouth to speak, but soon shut it.

He squatted down to Larkin's eye level and said, "You know what would really make her proud?" He leaned over to his ear as if he would chew it and whispered, "Being a realist and killing her enemies with my guild. After all, what if she's undercover? Doesn't it make more sense to not risk her betrayal, and to join me against them?"

"Join you?" _Her betraying me?_ he thought, quivering his legs at the idea and because of how interested he was getting in this sick gallade.

"Of course. She's the monster."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This was almost 2,000 words shorter than the draft version. Good thing I fixed that length problem.


	6. Chapter 5: Disadvantaged

**Chapter 5: Disadvantaged**

"She's a monster?" Larkin asked, sighing in disgust, "Then prove it."

Sword cringed, probably remembering the last time he heard "proof," and he said, "Prisoners of war testified today." He backed his head away from him, holding his hands together as if remembering the manners of his species. "Five testified about her allegiance—a will so great that she did twice as much training as others to grant her family favors under Terrell."

They stared at each other, and Larkin felt himself submitting to this idea. However, he shook his head when he remembered her saying, "It's better that you don't remember," regarding family. When she looked out at the street, her eyes seemed to glimmer with hope, yet something upset her gut and forced her to whimper quietly. Larkin crossed his arms and wagged his finger at the gallade.

"Nah," he said, smirking, "This is more serious than a silly mathematical proof. I demand rigor."

"Little monferno, that's not my job." He stood up and patted the fire-type's head and leaned over him. "I presented evidence to justify the bounty and capture."He pointed his arms to the left, "And I expect the Great Mesa courts will find her guilty and kill her." He shifted his arms to the right, chopping one hand's into the other's palm like an ax.

Larkin gasped and stepped backwards against the marble pillar. "There's gotta be a way to prevent that."

"Perhaps we can make a deal." He didn't smile, somewhat reassuring Larkin this held no sadistic pleasure for him. Still, this was absolute trash. Larkin had nothing to look forward to except her death. She had to be innocent, but this pokémon acted so sure of himself that it was like Sword wanted something from him in some power play.

"My goodness." He narrowed his eyes up at the psychic-type, and tensed his shoulders. "You want me to join you, don't you?"

For a moment, a smile flashed onto his face, but Krauss stomped up the stairs and yelled, "Now now, I'll have you know he's quite good at defending the town." He bowed to Larkin. "I tried to find you after Ramos told me a bounty went up against that manectric."

Larkin bowed back, smiling to himself for not being patted like a child like Sword did.

The gallade grit his teeth, but clenched his lips tight as if suppressing an outburst.

"I'm sure you're not aware of the system." He took a scroll from his bag. "So I was trying to get your team to a lawyer or arbitrator." He looked down and sighed at his failure.

Larkin asked, "What now?"

He told him that anything could happen. "But death penalty?" he said, glancing over at Sword and snarling, "You simply executed a legit bounty—"

"Enough." He nodded at Krauss and Larkin, and raised his nose in dismissal at the feraligatr. "My guild and I will pursue a death penalty because of what we _know_. You older pokémon are so soft, it's a wonder that I'm not a mass murderer like Terrell Cartel." He put his arms behind his back and strolled down the steps so royally that Krauss shook his head.

He placed the scroll in Larkin's hands. Looking down, sighing, he told him this paper was an invitation to his BBQ in his yard. He would look for someone to get him to the Great Mesa. "But are you sure about going to her? Sword seems sure she'll die."

"I am sure."

"Even after the testimonies?"

Larkin clenched his fist and looked away. "Would you kill someone over a rumor?" He spat on the pillar. "Now how about a lawyer along with the trip?"

Krauss shrugged. "You were the best toilet cleaner ever, but you'll have to rely on Toby to find help." He bowed to him and smiled. "And I'm sorry for the way I talked. Just be careful."

Larkin bowed in return and bid him farewell. While the feraligatr trotted down the steps, the monferno noticed blood but no openings on the skin of his knuckles. He inspected his hands, finding nothing wrong under the red covering. _Totally healed already? That can't be right_, he thought, but he lowered his arms, _Whatever, I better find Ver_.

* * *

"What do you mean Ver left?"

The krookodile shifted in his chair and sipped tea. "He heard that a tyranitar vanished while escorting three dozen carts. Then he paid me and ran out. I assumed you were with him."

_Then who else is going to help? _Larkin remembered that psychic-type mentioning Delilah in the Blackcade Watchers. Whatever it was, it didn't sound Western. "And Melida?"

"Been gone since lunch."

_Dang_, he thought, tightening his grip on the wooden edge of the desk. "That's just great." He huffed. "But why would Ver be spooked by a disappearance?"

"Pssh, buddy, say forty-seven Ananias."

Larkin looked around, but found nobody that could have had that voice. It wasn't even Blackcade's. However, his movements caused a series of oh's and ah's. _What the?_ he thought, focusing on Cranzigger when his big jaws spoke.

"I don't know."

It couldn't hurt to try: "Hm, forty-seven Ananias."

He gulped down his tea and coughed. "Apologies." His voice was much deeper now. He pounded his white chest and leaned back in his chair. "Sword believes Greg, that massive haxorus, is out there ambushing and spying in the tall grass." His eyes stared far ahead, removed from the conversation. It was like he was daydreaming instead of enjoying tea.

Larkin's mouth hanged open in surprise. He snapped it shut before the pokémon thought he wasn't supposed to know that. Nevertheless, the mystery of who told him that phrase was only equaled by why there seemed to be a feraligatr swimming in the red paint of the tea cup. The cup itself stayed as still as rock.

In fact, Larkin swore this was the same cup that Cranzigger must have used everyday, yet there was a gator swimming on the red like shadows projected by a campfire and this krookodile didn't notice it. Perhaps that meant only Larkin could see this projection, and maybe he was losing his mind.

But, anyway, Larkin returned his thoughts to why threats were hidden, so he asked, "Any reason Sword hasn't told anyone about this?"

Cranzigger's eyes blinked rapidly, and he stuttered, "Eh? What are you talking about?" His voice's deepness eased back to its old softness.

_I see, he was in a trance… there's no way he can answer what I want now_, he thought, tapping his fingers on the desk and smiling. "That Ver's a coward?" Hopefully, this at least would find Ver's reason for leaving.

"Of course!" He chuckled and tapped Larkin's hand. "I bet that whatever happened to that tyranitar, Ver got paranoid and ran."

"I see..." Larkin's eyes lowered to the cup on the desk in front of him. _Little bitch_. He grit his teeth and pounded the desk. "Sorry, but I need to get go—"

His long jaws nearly touched Larkin's nose. It smelled warmly putrid, but both of them gazed at each other in an awkward silence. Cranzigger lifted the cup up, sniffed it, and inspected Larkin's eyes again. He finally shook his head and whispered, "How the hell can you see that but not I?" He shoved the container into Larkin's hands, spilling pleasantly hot tea over his chest.

"What the?"

"Just get it out of here—it's not right." He waved for him to leave, crossed his claws, and put them out as if exorcising a demon. "It was great to have you, but you need to go." He forced a smile.

Larkin slowly waved farewell and walked out of the door. He patted the back of his own neck awkwardly. "Heh, well, it was good being here, too, thanks." Once on the smooth dirt sidewalk beside a taco vendor, he spotted blue scaled feraligatr winking at him from within the object. "Krauss? No, you have scars."

If it was any improvement, at least a third party confirmed the existence of this vision. It would be best to not let others see his eyes with this cup around though.

"I'm his father, Marcelino Minter." He snapped his claws and now laid on a luxury red couch.

"So why are you an image on a cup? Why can I see you?"

"One day, I woke up, and I was in a cup. It's so useless, I can only watch." He shrugged and tapped his claws on the imagined cloth. "Why can you? I have no idea?"

"Really? Maybe Black—"

"Oh no, no, young monkey." He shook his head and glanced down the street. "There's a lot of weird things in this world, and maybe I sealed myself to this horrible fate by accident… I really don't know how."

"Uh huh. Well, thanks for what you did back there," he said, looking over his shoulder at the sandstone bricks of the hostel. "But I get the feeling nobody else can hear you..." He peaked to his left and saw a pichu chef frozen while drizzling ground beef over vegetables. Also, the zigzagoon customer leaned against the wooden stall, stopping in mid-sentence while ordering a spicy torchic tomato taco.

Their interest bothered him. The way they looked down on him and thought he was crazy for acknowledging the existence of this haunted thing. There was only one way out of this.

"Don't do drugs, kids." He rubbed his cheeks against the cup and walked away. Because he hummed and chuckled like a drunk psyduck, the pokémon at the stall shrugged and kept on with business.

"And I need some help."

"So do I." He stuffed the cup into his bag.

* * *

"Look, I'm invited, but it's really creepy to do that." Larkin whispered, looking up at a depicted sun obscured by the water, and a reef spreading its pink corals along the base of the painted stone wall. If it weren't for the dust between his toes, he would have forgotten that he was not swimming.

"Just climb it and set me by his window." He pointed up. "Ramos's window is closest. But most importantly, do not mention my existence to my son, Krauss."

The monferno did not reply because three sets of footsteps passed by, joking aloud about beets and bedrooms. _I am surrounded by water-types. They'll see me if I jump that fence, and I wouldn't sound sane saying a cup told me to do this. But why does he want to remain secret from his son? __This doesn't sound polite for Krauss._Larkin scratched his head, but decided that if he was going to carry a talking cup, he'd want it to be content.

"You heard me, right?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, no mentioning."

"Good good. He'd think you're crazy."

Larkin scanned around, and gave up hope of the streets being empty. Moreover, that sunflora across the street stared at him like a sunflower does to the sun.

"Come on, put me in the garden by his window. Just throw me."

Larkin clenched his hand on the handle, feeling ready to just go back the way he came. "What will you offer?"

"Uh." He gazed away and tapped his jaw. "You told me about your manetric friend. Perhaps I can be your guide and help her out, too?"

"You better." He looked at the sunflora again and noticed the hundred blue, white, and orange flowers blowing in the wind and sunbathing on her table. He had to tolerate that she was staring at him—the reddest thing in this blue neighborhood.

He raised his head up at the drying rags, carpets, and scarves hanging on clothes lines between buildings. A dozen pokémon like squirtles, and butterfrees painted over the white surface on the building where sunflora operated out of. Their paintings looked boxy and unprofessional. Yet parents encouraged them from nearby windows.

The plant sighed and bent her arm leaves on the table. It seemed like she hadn't sold even an inch of the garden twine. Twine... string that could be used to hang the cup close to Ramos.

Larkin had an idea, so he walked over to the lonely sunflora and said, "Miss, I think the Minter Yard fence could use some flowers."

She sprouted up. "Oh, no, dear, they have enough planted. Trust me, I asked."

"Hang the plants and containers from the top of the fence. There, two layers of gardens."

She paused for a second, and Larkin kept his mouth shut.

_What am I doing? That's so dumb. She already said they had enough planted_. To Larkin's awe, she bowed. He did the same, smiling in victory when his head faced the dirt.

"Ew, wet soil?" Marcelino said, and Larkin slapped the cup, rattling the trapped pokémon. "Fine, I'll deal with it. Most water-types don't like mud, ya know?"

Both of them returned to normal stance. "I'll ask Krauss. After all, blue, orange, and white go well with all that blue, don't ya think."

Larkin nodded.

Five mutes later, Larkin walked along the top of that fence, stringing up each white, red, orange, and blue cup with full bloom flowers handed to him by Krauss. Other pokémon imitated and Larkin found himself accepting potted and strung flowers from a golbat, machop, and many more community members. Larkin had the honor to set Marcelino first, and it felt so easy to work after he left earshot of the cup.

Hopefully, Marcelino would shut up and sleep while he was busy with others.

"I heard Blackcade messed with you," some said.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry about all that happened," Larkin replied, pushing in dirt for each cup and holding his head low. His stomach growled.

"It's not the first time it happened, and we're gonna give your stomach some fuel."

He smiled and thanked them, continuing to work with others who had similar conversations with him.

With each knot he tied, he felt more pride to be around other happy faces. Even when pokémon mentioned him as a Blackcade Attractor, they handed him more supplies and smiled back to him. That warmth continued past sunset when Krauss had the monferno light up a bed of charcoal.

The charcoal took so many breaths to light that Larkin collapsed twice, but he stomped his feet in victory when those black coals stayed red in the darkness. Thus, in Minter's green grass and flower encircled yard, the smell of roses, marigolds, daisies, and blue phlox brushed Larkin's nose like running into a lavender field. To top it off, Krauss sizzled meats and spread spices on the grill.

Then that swampert, the uncle of Ramos, had to stomp his foot down and yell at the crowd of random artists that helped Larkin and Krauss, "I recognize that tail flame." He pointed Larkin out. "What are you doing here?"

"Son, keep it indoors." Krauss paused his flipping of steaks.

"We've gone over this, I'm the guardian of Ramos." He pounded one fist onto his chest. He pointed his fist towards Ramos's window, which was too dark to look into and said, "He's sick in the head, and he keeps watching that monkey."

Larkin looked towards Ramos's window, distracting himself from the noisy uncle. He heard a whimper inside the dark room, past the bars. Nonetheless, the mudkip's absence choked his ears in family drama he had no knowledge of. He felt like he fell off a cloud when his smile dropped, but he felt better when Krauss stepped away from the grill and wagged the hot spatula at the uncle.

Pokémon around Larkin, especially the water-types, whispered and watched Krauss talk.

A totodile holding a rusty dagger mentioned Ramos's hallucinations that worsened since Marcelino vanished. This little croc nudged Larkin's shoulder and said, "He always wanted to explore, maybe you'll take him?"

"Judging by the alcohol you're readying." Larkin scanned the barrels of drinks on the side of the yard. "I doubt I'll be walking after tonight."

They chuckled, and so did he. Still, it felt like it wasn't him laughing. He laughed to feel belonging with pokémon he hardly knew, and it worked!

Krauss handed him shotglasses of vodka and nodded.

Larkin blew flames on them, lighting them with cute blue flames

And everyone drank the flames and liquid with slabs of greased and peppered meat.

"You must be Larkin." A tall, two legged lizard with blades jutting from his cheeks sat down and clanked his glass on Larkin's. "I'm Astrid. Krauss bullied me into taking you to the Great Mesa." He leaned down, allowing his tail flame to illuminate him and his pink scarf better.

Upon realizing Astrid was a haxorus, Larkin coughed, still feeling some burn in his throat. "Yep. Nice to meet you, sir."

He grunted, turning his head side to side. With blades that sharp, Larkin's hand would vanish upon touching.

He pinched his cheeks, forcing Larkin to cringe, and he smirked in pleasure at the monferno's squirming. "If you want to be cut in half, call me a male again. I'm a girl."

"My apologies, madam." He clasped his hands together, silently asking for forgiveness.

"Whatever, just meet me by this yard tomorrow morning."

"Oh, but where will I sleep."

She chuckled and pointed at Krauss while he rolled kegs. Labels ranged from whiskey to gin. "Bartenders. Their idea of a guest room is a yard filled with wasted pokémon."

"Wasted?" He gasped when Krauss slammed a keg in front of him.

"Faint due to liquor." Astrid rubbed his shoulders and leaned over him. "But you'll go down blazing. Drink until you spew fire."

"Wah—what?" Larkin stumbled away from her and leaned on the keg. "Isn't that a bit much?"

She grabbed a wooden mug and tossed it at him. "Live a little."

At least a dozen water-types huddled around Astrid. Collars with feraligatr medalions clanked against each other, and Larkin realized he was the night's show for the family. It would have felt better if that swampert wasn't snickering behind all the blue scales. They ohhed and ahhed, clamoring to see fire breath.

"Look, ma, he's getting the good stuff!" a buizel yelped.

"And he's gonna like it!"

_I can't do it._ His hands jittered for a moment, still unsure of submitting to the pressure. He sipped it. It was so strong a taste that he regurgitated the drink and set the cup calmly down.

Larkin shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. Abashed, he said,"It's too much... It makes me empathize with how a third degree burn feels."

The Minters, except for that uncle, apologized and patted his shoulders. He didn't have to be forced into it, they said. Still, some took shots from that overpowered keg and winked at him, taunting him to get back.

Astrid's snickering overpowered their words and taunts for a moment. "Whatever, sissy. Someone get me blade guards before I drink!" She shook her head at him and turned up her head in disappointment. "No wonder a loser like you needs a ride, given the recent vanishing."

"Uh huh." Larkin turned away and searched for someone else to talk with.

However, others offered milder drinks like wine. They were so polite about it that he couldn't refuse while Krauss bragged about how fresh and pristine it was. Soon enough, he was laughing about simple things like cleaning cutting boards with boiling water, and then he was taking more glasses of that sweet red wine. Things got more dazed and blurry after that.

* * *

A rose scent whiffed into Larkin's nose, triggering him to stretch and yawn.

He opened his eyes and felt light shining on his orange fur through a window. _Wait, I'm indoors?_ he thought, scanning the room to find jewelry hanging on the wall over ceremonial kimono robes. He folded the blanket back and sat up. _Oh dear..._ The blanket had rubies on its blue cloth, and it smelled like a female that splashed perfume every morning. When he noticed the mirrors, brushes, and the hundred romance novels on shelves, he gulped and threw the blankets off of him.

He stood up and a headache pierced him like a hundred needles. With his hands covering his eyes, he cringed and dug through the pile of blades in his mind. He remembered Astrid calling him a loser, then drinking a dozen easy beers. Then... Well, just darkness and laughter after that—a girl's laugh! He was in her bed.

"What the?" He saw blue fur tickling his chest, so he tore it off of him. "No, no… I wouldn't do that with a stranger… or did I?" He groaned and put his hands over his eyes until he heard footsteps thumping to his door. His pulse iced up.

"Hey, Larkin." Krauss knocked on the door. "The minister's here."

"Gah!" He grabbed his bag and stumbled over to the door. Future fears raced in his head with regret following. "What do you mean? I gotta go!"

"Yes. You better get out of that room before I rip you out." He chuckled. "So many relatives want to see ya."

"Ah, dang it." Larkin turned the knob and stared up at the feraligatr.

Around him, a dozen water-types smiled coyly at the monferno. Some chuckled; some called him cute. Others joked that he cleaned up that lady real good.

Despite how obvious it was, his denial forced him to ask, "What happened last night?"

Krauss rubbed Larkin's head, and smirked down on him like to his grandsons. "Say hello to your father-in-law, Remmy."

"Fa-father-in-law? Aren't you that jerk?" He shook his head. "No, I would never—"

The swampert laughed and slapped his father's shoulder. "You hear that Krauss, he says he would never, but we heard his actions."

After his fat white belly churned, everyone else broke out with giggles and cheering. Many patted Larkin's shoulders and gently whipped their tails over his face, teasing the truth in. When that noise softened, they stared at him and crossed their arms, waiting for Larkin's dumbfounded self to comprehend.

Larkin's face lost its blood, and he fell against the door. Almost forgetting to breath, he gasped and asked, "Well, what now?" He shook his head and put his hands over his eyes. "I can't do this. I just can't."

"Oh hush." Krauss tapped Larkin's chin with his claw. Larkin's eyes opened with a tear forming on one eyelid. "We're just joking. Astrid and Remmy set it all up."

Larkin grunted from the aches and laid his head against the door frame in relief. Pretending to not be pissed, he softly chuckled and patted the feraligatr's arms. "Oh, you got me, but what are you going to do with the flowers?"

Krauss held them up. "Not sure, but you deserve them after that trick."

Remmy and the others nodded and walked down the stone hallway. Some called for Larkin to have breakfast before leaving, prompting him to wave and thank them for hospitality.

"Send them to Doctor Dewey. Say it's thanks from Larkin."

"You really are a good sport."

Larkin modestly rubbed the back of his head and shut his eyes. For now, he was polite despite his burning head, but perhaps today was the time for Blackcade's next lecture. Hopefully it was tomorrow because the monferno just wanted to sleep and ride in Astrid's bag.

"But I hope you learned something." Krauss tapped his shoulder and walked beside him. "Things can go very wrong if you drink around the wrong pokémon. Be careful who you trust."

* * *

Greg lied in the grass, covered in a sod ghillie suit, feeling each blade blow onto his sharp tusks, get cut, and fall onto his eyes. From the road side, he observed another haxorus running down the dirt. _Maybe she's worth getting_, he thought, scanning the sky above him without moving. Of course, most of the great blue above him couldn't be seen without revealing his spot. Some guild might spot him, and he'd have to tell Terrell how he messed up. That pink scarf and her backpack were Dice Guild judging by the black dice markings, and she could be a solution.

_A quick slash and tackle across the road ought to do it_. He focused his breaths. Three seconds in, one second hold, three seconds out. She would panic like the rest. Maybe she'd nick his scales, but she would be in the pearl faster than she could punch.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Remember to refuse drinks when you hate them, and watch out for the gradual descent into blacking out drunk. A beer there, and wine here, and you eventually get a dozen too many. Character flaws, yay.


	7. Chapter 6: Culture Bites

**Chapter 6: Culture Bites**

Greg slowly reached one arm forward on the sod to prepare a pounce, but his target stopped.

She tossed someone out of her bag and threw a bag out of her satchel. She turned around and yelled at a small orange furball with a flaming tail, "Hung over? Too bad, monkey, now use your legs and carry your stuff."

"What the hell, Astrid?" The monferno ran to the bag and glared up at her. "Your claws shredded the bag."

"It's just one cut. My bag has dozens of tears."

He picked it up and shook it. A yellow book fell out and splashed on the dusty road before a dry gust cleared the air. "It can't hold anything."

_Is that the same book? No, can't be_, he thought, feeling grass tickle his scaly feet and neck. Dust that stirred in the wind also settled in his nostrils, burning him inside.

"Fine." She leaned down and grabbed his bag. "I'll carry your stuff, but I'm getting you something better than this discount piece of tar when we're done. I know plenty of shops, like this one by the guild with this really cute pink skitty that talks the best fashion, not that you're unfashionable or anything like that, you just..."

_I take back any thoughts about her body. This worm just won't shut up._ His eyes stirred left and right, and he concluded that any movement of his would expose him. He had to listen, but at least he would later erase her dialogue from his mind.

The fire-type picked the book up and shook the dust off. He sighed and nodded with each of her sentences.

Greg again focused on the book, and his dragon eyes couldn't be deceived. It was the same size, color, and title of the book that Blackcade showed every elite. When he was a fraxure, Blackcade smashed the pages of that book against his nose so hard that he bled. It probably wasn't a good idea to call him stupid and the book idiotic.

The female haxorus grabbed the book and stashed it in his bag. "Oh, right, are you in a rush?" She wagged her claw down at him. "But one day of running will do no harm to you or your friend. Wasn't it Ver you're worried for? Ver's quite—"

"Ha? Ver? He ran away. We're going for Delilah." He rubbed one hand down his face in agony.

_Darn, I missed Ver. _He sighed._ Oh, well, I hope I can play along, catch some intelligence, and maybe find out why that book's there—Ohh, ohh, gods!_ He felt snot running down his nose and over his jaws. He wanted to sneeze and cleanse whatever was stinging in his nose. The annoyance spiked and he could only silently choke on his sneeze. Each suppression punched his lungs, but he would endure like when Ver kicked him in the groin.

Eventually, the pair ran along, so he cringed his eyes shut until their footsteps left earshot. He sneezed over and over, splattering his arm. If they were going where he thought they were going, he would have to endure being a worm for far too long as a haxorus.

* * *

"So what is this place?" Larkin gazed around at the walls of sandstone, layered with orange and tan. Dried shrubs rooted into the cliffs surrounding them, barely anchored to the desert rock.

Astrid stomped forward on the sandy valley floor. "A canyon mystery dungeon like hundreds of others. It's a good rest stop," she said, focusing her eyes ahead on potential enemies. "So get to relaxing. Maybe you'd like some oil? Oil makes that fur of yours shine like my scales—"

"Relaxing, huh?" Larkin sat down and sighed. His legs ached from the jog, and he found it annoying that Astrid bragged about sprinting to the Great Mesa from town in two days. At least she ended that talk with saying that someday he could be like that, or greater. He cleared his throat and asked, "Can you hurry up and carry me to the mesa, O fast dragon? Your talk is quite odd—"

"Odd?" Her eye lids raised up and she wagged a claw down at him. "Like I've told you already." She glared over her shoulder, shining one of her blades' edges at him. "Delilah won't be in that area for a week. Take it slow, her suffering won't end any sooner. What good is traveling if we can't have a talk?"

"Suffering?" Larkin's eyes widened. "Is her suffering like how you've talked about beauty parlors to me for the past two hours?"

Marcelino yawned from inside his bag. "Pearling is a lot worse than how I have to listen to you both blabber."

"Yes, Larkin, suffering." She looked forward away from Larkin and shrugged. "Eh, prison. Luckily, I think your friend is fat, which is a good thing since she won't be raped. Oh, well, better to be fat than weak! She's not like me, so let me tell you a story..."

_Okay, I don't think she knows I'm even here._ He covered his ears and waited for her to stop talking, and she didn't seem to recognize he was deaf. Nonetheless, that mention of rape hit his stomach, and his mind repeated what Astrid said earlier louder than whatever she was going on about.

When she stopped, he opened his ears. "Uh." Larkin lowered his head and paused to process that. Wetting his tongue, he said, "Is there nothing we can do?" His hands swirled in the sand, pressing the grits onto the rocks in frustration.

"Why'd you make me listen to that, Larkin?"

"Oh, hush." She waved her clawed hand back at Larkin. "Since you agreed to join Natterkin Guild, we're assisting her."

The last part made him tilt his head in confusion. "What? I recall no agreement." He stared at her, feeling the sun burning his eyebrows. "Besides that, I don't appreciate you saying Delilah's in trouble and then saying she's not. It's toying." _And now Marcelino's going to cry all night about it._

"Saucy fire monkey, aren't you?" She turned towards him and sat down, flopping her scaly legs out and splashing sand on both of their legs. "Krauss said you were looking for a guild. Welcome." She spread her arms up and towards the sky, mocking him with her dull words. "And if you don't stay, then I can leave you on the road and let that electric wolf enjoy the Distorted World. It really can be fun to kill or die to others there since death isn't permanent."

He crossed his arms and let a dry gust of sand pass his puckered lips. If it was just him, he would be yelling and stomping away from this bladed dragon. However, Astrid was the only key to his teammate's—no, partner's—well-being. He leaned back and tightly held his hands together.

He recalled what Krauss said about his first days in a guild, and he sighed. "This is guild life? I'd rather be mopping floors." He glanced to Astrid's side and noticed a shriveled snake skin blow by.

"So you know the stone cold weed smoking hulk, too." She scooted closer to him, and he dared not to scoot away in reply. "This isn't the best introduction to guild life, but you need to understand your friend is a potential risk to our lives." She shrugged and laid her clawed hands close to Larkin's side.

Marcelino hummed and annoyed Larkin's further, so Larkin turned his head away from her.

"You know what." He turned to her and narrowed his eyes. "I'm tired of you talking. Just stop with the rumors and the impulsive phrases. I don't know who to trust, but I already know to distrust you."

She chuckled and patted his shoulder with those cold claws. "When the facts are clearer, I'm sure we can make up." The dull side of her claws pressed against his upper back, near the leather strap of his messenger bag.

Despite how awkwardly good it felt to have her cold claws diving into his fur, his sore muscles needed a break. "You're offering a massage as an apology?"

"It's a start." Her head lowered to his and her eyes focused on his neck. "Normal routine for a guild, and this canyon is ideal for a fire-type like yourself. I went to a little effort to find it for you."

"It'll take more than that." He smirked and faced his back to her. Closing his eyes and gazing away from her, he mumbled, "But give me the normal routine anyway."

Marcelino chuckled from the bag. "I hope she thinks you taste good."

_What kind of rude joke is that?_ he thought, sighing and feeling her pressing against a tight bundle of neck muscle.

Both of her hands rubbed up the back of his neck, bumping along his spine and making him groan from the pressure. The way she tried releasing any tightness in his scaly grip might as well have been done with ice cubes, but at least he felt and heard a pop echo into his neck and vibrate down his back. It seemed that his shoulders were level again.

A searing hot pain shot into his neck so quickly that he could only flinch and inhale a force in breath of dirt and grass before yelling, "Aahh! What was that?" He coughed out the rubbish in his mouth. "Astrid, not so rough, next…. What the?" He opened his eyes and jumped off of the grass.

In front and below him, a hole in the ground leading to sandstone pillars showed waves of sand. This was the entrance that he came into earlier. It was so sudden that he almost fell into it while walking since this grass stood taller than him. He patted his side, expecting a bag, and only felt his fur. _Can't be right_. He tapped his other side and all around his torso, then he scanned the circle of grass bordering the hole.

_How'd I get here? Where's my—Oh_. He remembered Delilah's words about what happens when you die in a mystery dungeon.

"What kind of massage therapist pops my neck off?" He shook his neck and groaned. That bundle of muscles she popped earlier was back again as if she never touched it.

He lied down and placed his hands behind his head as if to enjoy a mid day nap under the sun. Astrid would be back, and he had to think of something to get back at her. Perhaps she would shine her scales when she got home, and that would be perfect to spill paint on her. Still, that was too much later. He needed something today like her fears or at least a stink bomb.

She had to have weaknesses, and that thought made him smirk and settle deeper into the grass. Perhaps Delilah would help with that later.

When the grass's shafts cushioned his back and once again sore neck like a pillow, he heard Astrid land next to him. She bent grass over and somewhat blocked Larkin's view.

"Are you crazy? Stay away from the entrance. I could have squashed you like I did to your head."

"I told you I lost memories." He rolled his eyes. "And what about my head?"

She leaned down and shoved the grass off of Larkin's body. "Well, here's your bag." She dropped it on his chest, knocking some air out of him. "And I'll get you your end of the routine shortly." She lifted her head, and blood dripped from her mouth to his face. She turned away and he heard her chewing on something.

"Oh, gross." He wiped his cheeks, but that only smeared the red. "Can't you eat somewhere—"

"Hmm?" She turned around, holding an ear in her jaws before slurping it down.

"That was my ear..." He rubbed the side of his head, finding himself intact. "What the fuck?" He grabbed his bag and stood up. He rubbed the blood off his cheek as fast he could. "What the heck did you do?"

"You really were saucy. Too bad the mystery dungeon made your arms rot before I could get to them." She giggled and pointed at her chin. "All right, now it's my turn to be your dinner."

He stepped back and fenced his arms up against her. Still, that tower of scales, muscle, and blades could have... well, she already ate him, but he was currently alive. This implanted violating thoughts in him though. Thoughts of her cutting his skull up and tearing him up made his heart chill and his arms shiver. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her to chew grass instead of him, but he could only lower his head and cough in disgust.

He looked up at her bloody smile in silence. If he said anything, she would talk and talk about how to prepare monkey, and he had no desire for that. He turned around and walked away. The fresh air and vast expanse of plains relieved his ill stomach, but his cheek still felt wet and he occasionally checked that his ears were still attached.

"Wha? Where you going?"

"Astrid, I'll eat ferals that threaten my life, but I've never seen a talking feral before. It's unnerving."

She grumbled in response. "You are a snarky monkey." She snapped her claws. "Pah, you're the type to hunt ferals for all your food? Well, I'll have you know that all the meat at Krauss's yard party was Krauss, and _you_ liked it."

"No, stop talking." He wagged his finger back at her. "I am not your food, and I am not part of your guild! Are we clear?" His stride stopped and he adjusted his tail up. He felt that tail heating, and he couldn't risk burning the field and hurting someone like Ver warned.

When he glanced back at her, she shook her head. "Hmph. Well, I'm not sure what you are, but I am most offended." She turned her back to him and kept her head aimed at him. Her eyes flicked ahead of him and then she smirked at him. "Oh, but fine, you won't be food, but I won't give you food. As for the guild, a putrid monkey like you has no power to decline until you are informed what that even means."

"Me? Putrid?" He blew her off and walked forward. "Just get me to the guild so I can stay away from you, crazy dragon." His head collided with a black leg in the grass. _Oh, great, it's that time again_.

"Oh, did I interrupt something pitifully important?" Blackcade nudged Larkin's nose and pushed him back. "You won't mind if we float behind you, Astrid—"

"What do you want—" She pointed at him.

"Little girl." He wagged his paw at her. "I will peel a scale off of you if you don't stay silent while I'm learning."

"Hmph, typical, you can't tolerate others keeping secrets." She waved her claws at him and turned away. "Reminds me of how you asked how to kiss through that dang cloth of—"

With a wave of his paw, she slammed the dirt face-first. He sighed. "Gossip is prohibited, too, _worm_." His covered face pointed down at Larkin. He whispered, "Keep Marcelino away and start."

"Sure thing." He tapped his bag and wondered how strange it was that he liked seeing Blackcade smash her into the ground. Nevertheless, he reserved the right to do that to him, too.

Larkin grunted and lowered his head. It was time again, and he knew better than to backsass him after seeing him cut up water-types. Mentally, he asked Blackcade how he knew Marcelino, but the clothed lucario only chuckled in response.

* * *

"Can you explain what the hell happened, Marcelino?" Larkin held the cup and strolled through the grass in a circle. Only the light of his tail guided him in the night, but it barely broke through the dark stalks of grass that gathered dew.

"There's a monkey talking to a cup and Blackcade can see me, too?"

"No. I meant earlier." He shook it, rattling the blue feraligatr's image on the red surface.

He rubbed his head and groaned. "That? Why, that was just a normal, harmless meal."

"But I know what she did, Marcelino." He shook a fist at him. "You knew she was going to do that, and you didn't tell me. Don't you see how wrong that is?"

"Oh gods, I wish I could walk away from this." He covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head. "Even if you lost your memory, can't you understand why safely dying in a mystery dungeon is so useful for food?"

"Are you justifying cannibalism?"

"A monferno did not eat you, and aren't you still alive?"

"Oh sure I am." Larkin grimaced. "And I'm stuck with a haxorus that wants me to eat her because she can't be asked to fire hyper beam at some feral birds."

"Find a pond and stick your head in it." He closed his eyes and jerked his head to the side. "I'm supposed to enjoy eavesdropping on Astrid's adult magazines, but I'm stuck here and I bet you're about to debate that theft is legal."

"Adult mags!" He leaned his face near his. "Yeah, go conjure up some of those and go je—oh, hey, Astrid." He noticed her feet and looked up.

Save for her red eyes and blade edges, her body stood against the starry and double moon filled sky like a towering silhouette. She crossed her arms and brought her golden scaled legs into view of his tail flame. She grumbled and leaned her head down to him, making him step back. "Wow. You give one lesson to Blackcade about boring numbers and now you're talking to a cup."

"Psssh, Larkin, put me closer and lower to her."

He slapped Marcelino, shaking him about. He said to Astrid, "I still don't wanna talk to you." He glanced away, preferring to not see her teeth again. _Damn it, now she thinks I'm crazy_.

"Fine." She shrugged and stood upright. "I'll get you to your destination. I'll hunt ferals, but I'm keeping the meat!"

He shooed her away and turned his back to her. "Bah, I can find a rattata." He hummed and stomped the grass down. There had to be burrows like what Ver found last time they were around here, so he trudged through and hoped he wouldn't twist his ankle on such a hole.

She sighed and muttered under her breath.

When Larkin peeked down at one hole, Marcelino pointed to the sky, budged his eyes, and yelled, "Hit the dirt!"

He obeyed, closing his eyes and tumbling his face into the thicket of grass stems.

A breeze whooshed by and crushed grass on both side. A caw echoed above him, and wings scraped above him like metal sheets. A cold, steel thorn jabbed into the back of his upper right leg and broke through the femur like a wedge and sledgehammer cracking apart a log.

When the thorn flew out, the pain splintered through the leg, forcing his toes to curl. "Ah fuck! Fuck!" He curled his body up, clenching his teeth, hands, abdominals, and his eyes.

A bright flash came through Larkin's shut eyes, and he heard a blast soon after that shook his body and made his stomach ache from the shockwave's ripple.

"Damn skarmories." She shuffled towards him, stomping grass with her tail and feet. "Oh, that's bad."

He would tell her it's much worse, but all he could say was, "ahh! Dang it!" He punched the ground, grinding his teeth. He swirled his head up, finding his vision of Astrid approaching him to be blurred and doubled.

She carried a green glass orb like the one Sword used on Delilah. "You'll be okay." She grabbed his neck, cutting off his breathing and forcing him to cough and wheeze. "Just calm down. I need you knocked out to pearl you and save your life. It's like losing your arm to my blade, but your meager injury will only require a surgery—"

_Oh gods, just shut up and bonk my head instead_, he thought, grabbing at her arms to try pushing her off, but she kept talking, coiling around his neck and straining his neck bones until they crushed each other.

His vision continued to wane and darken the stars. His tail flame light faded like his strength, and his attempts to pull her claw off were futile. The clog in his throat tortured his head, burning his brain that commanded him to breathe. Breathe! Death seemed to approach when all he could see was her red eyes gazing at him. He didn't even hear her anymore because of the throbbing of his head and coughing. Heck, he could hardly feel his arms, and each moment ached them more to hold them up.

Something smacked his head, knocking his ear to his shoulder. If only she did that in first place to finally get her "life-saving" done.

A flash of light filled his eyes, so he shut them in pain. Interestingly, that was the only pain remaining, so he wiped his eyes and swatted at Astrid's arms, but she was not there.

"What the?" He opened his eyes and looked around, finding only his tailflame that illuminated a dark gray and rough stone floor. Standing up, he patted the back of his leg and found the skin to be unharmed. "And it's so dark." Not even a hint of other structures came to him in the blackness surrounding his tailflame. He didn't even have his belongings, not like that was a bad thing since Marcelino wasn't here.

_At least he saved my life_, he thought, grumbling.

"Relax, monkey." Astrid's voice echoed in his head, similar to how Blackcade would transcribe thoughts to him. "I got your things, and I'm taking you to our doctor. I don't have time to talk or listen, but I recommend killing yourself if you see any other pokémon in that Distorted World."

"Yeah, yeah." He knew better than to ask her why and listen to an endless story.

"Death is temporary there and it teleports you. I gotta go. Can't be dropping your pearl or else you'd bleed out."

_Now I'm at the mercy of the tears in her bag_, he thought, walking around and sighing. _So that's why the rattatas stay underground at night_. He chuckled, blaming himself for nearly becoming a meal with a rat.

At first, his head jerked back and forth at each sound of water drops hitting ponds scattered throughout. One pond almost drowned him when he walked face first into the water blob. He fell forward, and smacked his nose on the rocks. Somehow there was no water. "Huh?" A look up confirmed the water floated above the ground like a cloud, so he had to crawl to get past it.

Other oddities like a stone spike piercing out from the wall almost impaled him. He tapped the tip, and found his finger to be bleeding. Therefore, he snapped the end off and carried it with him in case he needed it.

Still, he sounded like the only living thing here. There weren't even bats living at the top of the cave when he spit a fireball up there to check. Probably wasn't a good idea to use such a flare or even his tailflame though. He felt that would attract somebody, but it was his only way to not trip onto a hole of floor spikes taller than him.

After a climb up a tunnel and a turn around a corner, he noticed a dull green light far down the path. It felt peaceful like sunlight filtering through a forest canopy, but the cool, damp rocks reminded him to edge forward with his ears open for anything.

He wondered why he was so careful now. Fear of the darkness didn't concern him, but he wondered what would be worth killing himself. Maybe it didn't matter since he didn't know if he would be alive after the doctor saw him back in the real world.

"Hmm, that'd be a shame," he whispered to himself, thinking of what awaited him on the Great Mesa. If he died, then he would be just as worthless as Ver. Well, maybe it would be more honorable to bleed out than run away, but Delilah needed more than honor.

Unless she really was murderous like Sword said, but… but he knew what murderous looked like. That luxray, that annoying Blackcade, and even a bit in that gallade and haxorus. _Wasn't that enough to not be naïve_? he thought.

After a dozen more steps in that quiet cave, the green light barely seemed bigger. Nonetheless, he turned off his tail flame since this floor felt much smoother than before, so there was no reason to risk being seen. In the silence, he wondered why the West attacked Meadow Bowl, who was the West, and why they would attack him and so many others.

Actually, _who _was he?

He lowered his head and rubbed his chin. Whatever an elite was, he was one, and he found it repulsive to be either Sword or Ver. There had to more elites to learn from; there had to be something about him locked and hidden in his memories. Bah. If he was from the West, then it didn't matter unless he ends up killing his wife and children in a war.

Assuming he found a good team, the thought of choosing between his family and team in a war chilled him. He shook his head and walked onwards. Still, these thoughts reminded him how happy the Minter family seemed when they pranked him, or when they partied. That was something they could enjoy any day. He lacked it, and the cold walls around him signaled his empty path.

He needed answers once he got away from Astrid.

A black shape ran by the green light. _Oh crap_. He staggered back, and stood still. Straining to listen for noise failed to note anything. Maybe it was just his imagination because he could have sworn it was just ten meters—

"Bah!" A blue and gold face flashed into view from his side. Large canine jaws sparked, illuminating the damp floor and the face's long row of teeth under its spiky fur.

The shock forced his arms to cover his chest. "AH!" Larkin jumped back and landed on his rump. He remembered Astrid's advice, so he stabbed the right side of his chest before that toothy blue and yellow face got any closer.

"Larkin?" The canine's face relaxed, concealing her teeth.

Although he already clenched his eyes and started screaming, that face sure looked like Delilah's, and its voice was Delilah.

Oh, great, he killed himself in front of her, and he was nothing but a squirming mass that bled out from under the ribs. He couldn't breath. Blood flowed out of his lungs, seeping through his nose and saturating his screams into drowning moans.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry I did that." The sparks vanished, but he felt her soft feet rub the top of his head. "Dang it, we're going to be alone."

With his vision of the green light fading, he sighed and focused his attention on how she petted him. It was the only pleasant thing while his blood shot towards the ceiling.


	8. Chapter 7: Under the Surface

**Chapter 7: Under the Surface**

The vulpix bowed his head to Blackcade and lowered his tails. "Yes?"

He pointed his paw at a marble tile by the bathtub's fine stone walls. The tile glowed purple and slid off its slot and onto another tile. "Get under the tub and heat it up." He turned towards the mirror and the lavender scented candles over his sink. "Mm." He rolled his shoulders, cracking and popping them in a way that jolted the little pokémon's ears around and cringe.

He nodded and jumped down into the dark slot. It was rather cozy due to its stone floor and marble ceiling until Blackcade put the tile on again and surrounded him in darkness. He was okay with close and dark spaces, but the water that dripped on his nose made him shiver.

It was just a leak, he told himself. He moved towards the center of the short crawlspace, checking the ceiling for any cracks or wetness. There weren't any around the middle of the tub, but he had to check if the tub was indeed a solid piece or something vulnerable to cracking open and drowning him. With water pooling around his toes, he couldn't be too careful in touching each crack in the ceiling for a leak.

"Hey." Blackcade tapped the tile. "I don't sense any heat down there!"

"Oh, right!" He coughed and spewed out flames to the ceiling inches above him. _Ahh_, he thought and relaxed his shoulders, _That feels better, __and he's not gonna whip me_.

He kept the heat up, then breathed once he exhausted his air, and started the cycle again. Of course, steam rose around him, making new breathes harder. Still, he only had a little bit more to heat up, and hopefully he would get out of this steam.

Something blared above him. It was like magnezone's cry ringing over and over again, and the fire fox stopped to hold his paws over his ears.

Footsteps echoed above and the noise stopped.

"What, Lincoln?" Blackcade spoke above him, then a command from Blackcade emitted to the little pokémon's mind, _Keep the flames up._

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He breathed in, feeling his lungs burn thanks to the steam, then he stood up and pumped out fire again. Funny, there should have been no oxygen left down here, but something blew fresh air in every time he ignited. It helped control the humidity a little, too.

"Report? I've been too busy to write that."

Leroy couldn't hear whomever Blackcade was talking to. It made him wonder if a pokémon was using sign language above. Moreover, he heard the water splash above him, and Blackcade was probably cleaning his fur already.

"Between your final—and useless—math test and a vulpix trespassing on my ranch and farm. I'd say I need at least one hour to bathe."

_Math? I expected better_, he thought, _Wait! That yellow math book with that monferno! That makes sense, but why __does that monkey have the book__?_

Leroy provided the best heating he could. After filling his lungs, he exhaled more flames out. It was getting so hot that even a normal breath out would be fire, and his fur felt so smooth and vibrant in the heat now that the dampness couldn't seem to keep up. It wasn't as good as being by a lava pool, but it was the best feeling since he took this dare to walk to Blackcade's house uninvited.

"Yeah, I made him a pet… Of course I'll let the Natterkins Guild rescue… Ahh, just let me play my games." Blackcade shifted above, scratching his claws on the surfaces. "You want me to do _what_ with him?"

Now that felt awkward to be talked about. Whatever they had in mind, he hoped he wouldn't eat dried, nearly teeth breaking hard food from a dog bowl again. He didn't even eat on a table like a real pokémon. On the other paw, it felt quite natural, comfortable even, to receive such delicious bites. It had to be Blackcade's subtle mind control.

Another siren blared from above, much louder than before. The vulpix collapsed and held his ears shut. He whirled around in pain until the noise again stopped.

"Bath's over. Someone touched your stuff." Blackcade's footsteps raced out of the room. He opened and slammed the door shut.

"What the?" Leroy stood up and shook his head. He paused and listened, but it was all quiet. Blackcade seemed quite funny to talk about an hour long bath and then run off like that. Then again, Blackcade kept throwing bones and balls at him earlier, so he didn't know what to expect. Maybe he was about to get him a damn collar and leash.

He sighed and walked over to the tile he entered through. He easily lifted it open and stepped out of it. Glancing around, he saw nobody else. They must have vanished with Blackcade.

Ah, this was the moment. Even though Blackcade told him to never go anywhere without his permission, he wasn't here, and there were plenty of doors in the hallway outside of this silver bathroom one. Perhaps he would erase his memory of whatever he saw, but he had to take a chance to find out what was here. He could see his group's reactions to his stories already, and he would be envied for going where Blackcade never allowed others to.

He grabbed the knob with his teeth and opened it. When it swung out, he rolled onto the wool carpet and gazed around. Nobody was there, not even a flareon like at that bar.

It was dark. He could feel the silky carpet, and almost collided with one of the walls of layered crimson sand, quartz, basalt, and gold ore. Across the hall, patterns of flowers and clouds printed themselves in this rock, but he only saw them when his mouth acted as a torch. Leroy could hardly imagine how much heat and pressure it took to form these walls and hold them up better than a cliff.

If only he had a light or at least a window. The vulpix's paw slapped against an entrance.

"Ow." He rubbed his paw and looked up at the knob.

He opened the door across from the bathroom and rolled like before. However, he couldn't watch where he went, so he crashed into something. A light fabric board bounced off his head. Something wet stuck on his fur like paste.

"Hmm?" He exhaled out a small flame and noticed that he hit an easel, and his fur ruined a painting that now lied on the pink carpet. "My my, he paints?"

His head ruined only half of the painting by smearing a mushroom cloud sized blast only heard of in legends. The other half clearly featured Blackcade from the side, sitting on a snowy mountaintop and holding somebody's picture. He had never seen Blackcade in such a compromised position with his head low. This would make great news once rescue came for him—

Footsteps rattled from inside another door. Hard footsteps. Blackcade walked much softer, and Leroy wondered who or what could possibly live in this house with Blackcade. It seemed to be coming from the basement, and that chilled his spine.

"Oh crap," he whispered and darted out of the door and back under the tub. He pulled the tile over him as best he could to hide. Some seconds passed, and he now felt the thumping going up towards him.

When a nearby door knob rotated open, Blackcade's footsteps raced down the hall and stopped nearby. Leroy felt temporarily comforted that Blackcade returned to see whatever was now in the hall.

"What the hell did you do to my art room, Lincoln?"

"Did you fix the problem?" a deep, condescending voice asked.

"Ugh. Yes, I pearled the three explorers. I'll wipe their memories, and relocate the item more safely."

"Good. I need to kill them."

"Excuse me?"

"Or you can kill them, Blackcade."

Despite the residual heat, cool water dropped down, soaking his fur and making him shiver. He dared not move and find out what this Lincoln was though. _Kill? For what? Did Blackcade refuse to kill?_ Leroy shook his head in confusion.

"I would kill a low class thief." He stomped around. "But these were honorable explorers, and they apologized to me for merely seeing it. They even obeyed the warning label of 'Owned by Blackcade, don't touch.'"

"Just shut up and kill them."

"What business is it to you? I said I own it."

He chuckled. "But this isn't your world."

_Why hasn't Blackcade killed this jerk yet?_ he thought, smuggling his tails as close to the wet floor as possible.

"I've been streaming audio since I came in this house." Blackcade slapped something. "Is it worth your public's outcry if you kill these three? Damn it. I'll even quarantine them for a month to clean their memories out if it's so important to you. And you're stretching my patience after what you did to my painting."

"I didn't touch your art—"

"Go home. I know what I am doing, Lincoln."

"Fine, but you shall be in ultimate debt if this fails." A door slammed shut and footsteps went down some stairs. "Wait, do I smell someone else nearby?"

Leroy's heart hit against his ribs and he stopped breathing. The footsteps walked back up the stairs and that door crashed against the wall. _This can't be good_. He turned his head side to side and unfortunately remembered his earlier inspections showed this tile was the only way in or out. There was no way he could stand up to whatever heavy metal feet were out there. Worse yet, he was stuck here.

Blackcade started to speak, but Lincoln hushed him and strolled towards the bathroom. Echos of his feet shook Leroy, making him tremble and lie against the floor as low as his belly and closed eyes would allow.

This wasn't right. Other companions of his routinely came to this place to be a pet for a week just to be rescued. This was Leroy's first time, and nobody mentioned something else that could crush him under its steely feet.

Maybe his parents were waiting for him once he died. If only it will be a quick death. His feet, legs, and chest trembled and shook. He wasn't breathing enough either, and felt more dizzy with each step nearing him. He wanted to whimper so much that his eyes locked tight and his throat ached. One break in his silence meant the end, so he endured with his body's shaking.

The door opened and his teeth clattered. That probably finished him. Someone had to hear that.

A flash hit the vulpix's eyes and he blinked them open. He was out on the plains in the sun. A breeze ruffled his fur and dried him off. With a cough, he quickly breathed in and out and wondered if he awoke from a nightmare. The cold sweat and unsteady limbs still bugged him.

Before he could glance at the long, concealing walls of wind breaking trees at the farm, a voice yelled in his mind, _Run until you see night_. He wasn't about to disobey: He bashed and jumped through tall stalks of grass to find the road and camp again.

* * *

Larkin's vision stopped fading. However, his ribs cracked and pushed a hot, searing stone out of him, which shoved blood through his eyes and head. Each ridge of the spike splintered bone and nerve, forcing Larkin to groan and yell. A shock recoiled through his chest, sucking air in. He screamed again, but blood wasn't blocking.

He clenched his arms over his chest and rocked back and forth in a spasm. Something in him pushed it out, and the stone claws got smaller and smaller with each new cut. Additionally, freeing the thorn from his lungs empowered his inner fire again and sent flickers out his tail's end. Soon, his tail lit, and the spike fell out of his chest.

Only a trickle of blood flowed from there, and he regained his full sight slowly with a headache punching him over and over.

"Ahh, oh, oohh..." He put a hand over his chest and head and panted. Now he felt a dull pain, so he could keep his eyes open and find Delilah gazing at him with her jaw dropped. "Did you pull that out?"

"No. I don't know how it happened." She shook her head and rubbed his head again. "Are you all right?"

"Ugh, I might puke." He patted and rubbed where he stabbed himself. It was blood covered, yet it had solid, pink flesh covering it. "But I'm intact, somehow."

She softly put her paw on the wound and rubbed. "Really, no pain?" She scanned his face and his limbs as if expecting him to jerk around in pain.

However, he laughed. "Hey, stop." His eyes blinked shut and he curled inwards. His body felt a terrific tickle spread through him, disabling his will over his squirming movements. His head throbbed with each laugh, sending pleasure and pain through him.

The manectric smirked, lifted her paw, and circled her claw tips. "Maybe a little here?"

"No, really, stop." He pushed her leg back and scooted away. "It's making my headache worse." He covered his chest and stopped her claw.

"A shame that you have a headache." She giggled and took her paw away and lied down beside him. Laying her head level to his, she chuckled and glanced at him. "So, ticklish one, did you eat a sitrus berry or something?"

"No." He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. When he wondered how he healed like that, he remembered when his knuckles quickly healed after punching Sword. It seemed odd to see bleeding seal so fast, so he told Delilah about it and asked, "Do elites heal faster than normal?"

She smiled. "Psssh, no. Still, good punch on him." She glanced down the cave and nodded. "Well, you might have a special ability. I'm not sure how useful it is yet since Pascal and others can disintegrate you with their own powers."

"Dang... but for now, how are you?" He noticed her fur coat was matted with pebbles and damp moss.

"Oh, I died ten times already. Nasty pokémon to run from..." She shrugged. Her nose perked up and she sniffed. When Larkin opened his mouth, she pushed it shut and whispered, "Just caught a whiff of someone far away. Tail flame off. They shouldn't smell us."

He did so, leaving both of them in darkness. The shroud gave Larkin more security, but he still kept his voice low.

"It must be your first time." She sighed. "You and your flames smell way too strong."

"Hmm, too late to change that." He shrugged and patted his hands around to find Delilah's head and ears. "But isn't this place huge? How could you smell me?"

"I thought that Sword would pearl you, too." She cleared her throat. "I knew where to sniff since he would carry our pearls down the same road in the real world. But let me remind you your smell is not good luck. Any dog can find you." Her ears flopped against his fingers. "There's nowhere in these dark caves for us to hide."

He nodded, silently cursing Astrid for all that sweaty running he had to do. "Oh, dang." Larkin put one hand on his face and sighed. "And I was told Natterkin Guild would provide safety for you."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

Larkin told her all that happened after Sword's actions. Krauss's prank made her giggle, but the rest left Larkin with silence. He only knew she was there because he still rubbed around her ears. However, the promises of her security, Larkin's disgust with knowing he was eaten, and how he needed to be pearled made her nod her head.

"Oh, Larkin, I understand, and it's good that our destination is the same." She sighed. "Kind of suspicious how things turned out though..." She voice drowned out and her head lowered. She must have been thinking about why Sword pearled her and what her future held.

He was about to assure her he'd be there for her, but she sniffed again and jerked her head up, down, and side to side.

"What is it?"

"Dang it. It's that same gang that's been chasing me. Getting too close." She stood up, knocking Larkin's hand aside. "I need you to trust me."

"For what?"

From the darkness, someone yelled, "We're here all week, babies!"

Larkin jerked his head to the side and held his arms over his chest to defend himself from what was coming.

However, Delilah slammed him aside and shuffled in front of him. He yipped, and his tail ignited. The light showed Delilah hovering her paw over his head.

"What are you—"

Blue electricity fried his hair and sparked over his eyes. His body convulsed, knocking his limbs in every direction, then his head smashed against the cave floor. It didn't hurt. Nonetheless, a paralysis held his body, refusing to let his eyes move away from Delilah's open jaw of pointed teeth. Worse yet, they glowed purple with dark energy ready to rip his head off.

He wanted to kick her away, or at least look away, but he couldn't even yell. _Oh no, please don't, _he thought, but he heard other pokémon holler and describe his internal organs. Grinding up Larkin's liver while he was alive didn't sound nice at all. _You know, I'm happy she's killing me instead of those barbarians._

When she threw her jaws down, the other parts panicked in disgust and tried to clench his body to stop her or at least brace for the pain.

Ah, but her jaws sliced through already. There was no more to think about. Her eyes noticed his continuing disgust with the blood coming from her mouth, so she turned his head to the side.

With a peaceful, black sight before him, she said, "Sorry, I had to." Despite his fading vision and hearing, he heard her pick up the stone spike.

"Ha!" Something slapped the stone aside and it bounced along the cave floor.

"Oh, no, no..." She stepped back, but there were dozens of other footsteps following.

Pings of rage and fear echoed in him. He knew he would awaken intact, but he wouldn't be able to do anything for her. Bracing himself to hear her screams, he imagined slicing up these pokémon hiding in the darkness. A hope of vengeance made the attackers' chuckles more tolerable.

"Whoa, that scent really was Delilah! Nice work killing that monferno, girl."

_Wait, what?_ Larkin thought.

"I guess she got captured from our squad."

"Come on, girl, let's make the most of our days as POWs." Someone laughed, and Larkin's tailflame almost completely darkened by now. "Eh? Where ya going?"

She did not reply, but another female's voice had words for her, "Don't be a bitch. We got pillaging and more to do."

* * *

When he blinked again, he was sitting on top of a kitchen counter. He patted his body, checking that he was indeed alive and whole. He was, so he sighed.

All the windows of the room emitted a hazy green that shimmered off the pots and pans floating above him. The cabinets around him hanged open, and one even had dried blood spilled out from a pile of bones inside. Larkin closed that cabinet. Hearing the bones fall and roll inside made him shiver.

This room had a wooden ice box for refrigeration, but no ice. Similarly, the outside world flooded the room with a rotting mossy green, and there was no sun. Light came from each direction as if the air itself provided light. Looking outside, he found that he was at least a hundred meters above a stone floor expanse.

His head felt much better now, but he made note to find a more effective way to die next time. "Her squad..." He sat down on the floor and rubbed his chin. "Oh my, was she at Meadow Bowl? Maybe somewhere else?"

That implied she enslaved, attacked, burned, and perhaps even killed. Even though she hesitated in joining that group a minute ago, he imagined her tearing into other pokémon's throats like she did to him. Of course, she permanently killed them, and they screamed until their vocal chords slid down her maw.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Eventually, the images vanished, but he started panting and finding himself confused. Now everyone seemed disgusting: Sword's overbearing justice, Astrid's mouth, and that manectric's past. Oh, and some ghost from the Minter family was always in a cup to spy on everyone.

He lied down on the tile floor and stared at the white and molding ceiling. For the first few minutes, he cursed her. She didn't tell him a thing before all this, and maybe he would take Sword's offer. It would be a better guild than Astrid's since that girl would never understand his disgust.

But that was the thing, Delilah turned his head and apologized. Heck, she even tickled him instead of hurting him. She even comforted him on his first suicide attempt and asked how he was. Ver, Astrid, and Sword never did these things.

"Oh dang."

These thoughts cycled through his mind over and over. There was no way to settle such problems by thinking about them, but it was too hard to stop them for sleep. Over and over, he lied there and processed the situation because it was too risky to go anywhere else. He promised that he would confront her as soon as he could.

* * *

Ramos the Mudkip strolled down the dirt street with Krauss and glanced at each side to nod and say good morning to the merchants. Such pokémon like the ivysaur that showed him a knock-your-tongue dead spicy sausage link, the pidgeot watermelon farmer, and that poliwrath's best rope in all the plains gave him work. There was no better education on hot peppers than having your skin fry for two days because he touched them without gloves. That was only one of many places this kid had worked at.

Still, perhaps this new job would get him something fun like that Smoochum's Ice Cream. Dang, that tasted good with the brain freeze.

"Remember." Krauss looked down on the little bruised tail fin. "Don't let the bookstore's customers get to you. You and I know what you can do."

"Of course, grandfather." He nodded and walked with his head higher. It was hard to walk with such pride after his uncle beat him last night though. "Oh, you didn't tell uncle about that rude haunter I slapped out of the bar, right?"

"Don't worry." Krauss waved at a riolu standing at one of the many houses' windows above them. "The two days I get with you are none of his business."

"But word got out—"

The feraligatr chuckled and pointed at a painted smoothstone wall at their side. It displayed a chessboard with two alakazams playing. "Don't worry, I took credit and covered it up. Just like how you don't remember that place was a toy store."

"Toy store?" He examined it again and found nothing odd about psychic-types sitting outside and playing chess on dusty wooden tables. A boring game. The bagel shop next door with its honey jelly had more interest, and even the chess players ate those bagels while in game under the hot sun.

"Heh. I'll tell you about its fun when you're older." Krauss rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, when your shift is done, come see me for training." He winked. "Hopefully you'll grow up even faster."

Ramos smiled and suppressed his confusion about the toy store. "Uh, sure." The bookstore and printing shop came into view above the canvas tops of the merchants' stalls and below the strings holding up hand-painted paper butterfrees. Its front had a sculpture of a gardevoir leaning on the outer wall and reading.

"Oh," Ramos said, recalling what books had, "Is it okay if I read about some moves?"

"Aw, Ramos, of course it is." Krauss leaned down and patted his head, flashing his winged collar and Minter medallion in his face. Ramos turned his head down, but Krauss lifted him back up. "Read all you want. In fact, bring me a book so we can read and fight together. Now do your best as security and fire prevention."

"Yes, grandpa." He nodded and hugged his leg.

Krauss patted his head and nudged him away after some seconds. Once parted, he smiled down on him and gave a thumbs-up.

Ramos didn't even need Mary or his friend around thanks to Krauss's presence, and all his mind focused on was which superb move he'd learn by reading. He had to make the most of his night with grandpa.

Krauss waved, too, and turned around, finally breaking their eyes off each other and leaving Ramos's heart to sink.

* * *

Larkin enjoyed a berry smoothie with a mudkip in his dreams until a spear crushed his upper right leg. His eyes flicked open, dispelling the shocked face before him and bringing forth a foxy face with a long, blood stained mustache.

His face jerked away. "Huh, who are you?" Larkin groaned, and reached the back of his leg. His touch confirmed it still stabbed him if he touched, so he grunted and covered a hot faucet of blood. Still, the fluid spit out of his leg despite his best effort.

"Don't touch that. I'm your doctor." The psychic-type's eyes glowed blue for a second, then he jerked his head back and gasped. "Bullocks!" the alakazam yelled. He grabbed a bundle of gauze, shoved Larkin's hands away from his leg, and squeezed it up to his bone.

"The HELL!" Larkin yelled. His neck, hands, arms, and legs clenched and their insides shattered his bones with agony. His vision blurred, and his teeth clattered together in the cold white tile room. With his muscles still rolling in hot, bladed irons, he couldn't inhale when his shout exhausted his breathe. Closing his eyes, he whimpered and shuddered.

An extremely sweet smell of sugar whiffed into his nose. The pain vanished. His sight blackened.

When he woke up, a headache similar to the one he had in that other world greeted him. Same old throbbing pain, but his joints and stomach ached as well. He blinked his eyes open and tried to rub his eyes, but his elbow, shoulder, and fingers were as sore as the back of his leg.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Anton." An alakazam's long mustache came into view. He tipped his white and red cross hat at him. "Not bad. Only took about five hours for you to heal a severed artery and crushed femur. No berries used." Sunlight from a window behind Larkin shined on his hat and the white clay floor.

"I didn't know I was a test subject," Larkin laid his hand on his stomach. "Ugh." He felt his breaths smolder in his lungs after talking.

"The guild's leadership would have let me use a sitrus berry." He shrugged and sat down cross-legged. "But they saw your healing and ordered me to let your miracle continue."

"I certainly don't feel a miracle yet."

Anton nodded and walked to some wooden cabinets on the wall. He opened one of the silver trimmed wooden doors and grabbed something. "Well, have some oran berries." A handful of blue berries hovered to Larkin's mouth.

He took the hint and opened his mouth. One would go in, and he would chew. His eyes widened and his breathing relaxed after the second berry, and when the handful emptied, he smiled and burped softly.

"Better?"

"Sore in the joints and legs, but better late than never."

"Of course." He held his hands together, tapping the spoons together. "But I have news for you."

"Huh?"

Anton strolled over to Larkin, squatted down, and held a spoon against the monkey's throat. "For your safety, do not inform others of this healing factor you have."

He wondered if he already knew about Delilah since Anton was psychic. However, a memory of an espeon failing to read his mind at Meadow Bowl assured him that Anton surely couldn't read him. _Still, I hope I haven't already messed up_. "But why?"

He scoffed and wagged the spoon over his face. "Not only are you an elite, you've got a special power without strength to defend yourself." He walked towards the cabinets, and rested his hands on the counter. He stayed there for a while to quietly stare at the wooden storage and mini palm trees potted around the room, then he said, "I would have told you to find somewhere peaceful to live and find your own way, but Astrid told me that some bartender knows you're an elite. Darn, the West is going to target you once they find out."

"Target?" That sent a chill down Larkin's tail. "Uh. Then what do you suggest, Doc?"

He turned towards him and rubbed his mustache. "Hmm. Let's talk about that over some tea. I have a surgery soon."

"Well, don't expect any more miracles today, doc." Larkin smirked and snuggled his head on a straw pillow. The floor was cool on his back, but it wasn't uncomfortable for his hips and legs to rest on. Still, he shuffled away from the big blood stain on the floor in order to nap. Wait. That felt dirty. Why didn't he clean this mess? "Uh, Anton? I need—"

"Sssh, the nurse will help you soon. I gotta go." He spun his spun at him and walked to the door. He opened the door and said, "By the way, I stopped your bleeding. Don't act like you're a god." He grabbed something from outside the door and threw a bundle of paper to Larkin. "Have some news, and good day!" He shut the door.

The paper landed beside his leg. He picked it up and read the front cover, GREG ASSAULTS PEARL CONVOY, WAR CRIMINALS LIKELY TO BE RELEASED.

* * *

Author's Notes

If you've noticed the lack of beds, pokémon don't use beds like humans. At least, not at all as often as humans. You can think of them more like your dog that can sleep anywhere on the floor, and you are also able to comfortably sleep on floor.


	9. Chapter 8: Forced Together and Apart

**Chapter 8: Forced Together and Apart**

"Ah, dang it." Larkin fiddled the paper in his hands and read further.

The article detailed a story of a haxorus attacking the convoy and forcing them into a dungeon. Larkin found it strange that this monster named Greg didn't enter the dungeon. He stood at its entrance and waited. Then he read that there was five hours estimated until the pokémon inside would have to leave, and he understood. Greg intended to permanently kill them.

Worse yet, this convoy certainly had Delilah because it came from Sword's Guild.

Descriptions of the battle bothered Larkin and made him tighten his grip further. Greg stood against a circle of two hundred members of Natterkin Guild, which must have been the guild Larkin was in. Fireballs, ice blasts, explosives, and arrows from those two hundred pokémon didn't stagger him. Heck, the freak wouldn't back away after sleep seeds blasted him.

When he read that some elites could handle Greg, but were ordered to stay in town to protect against surprise attacks, his hands trembled. The report concluded that the pearls will likely be left to Greg. The convoy's lives mattered more.

He sighed, set the paper down and set his jaw on his hands.

"What the heck?" Blood flowed to his fists and head, and a headache forced him to groan. "So that's it? She's done for? Well, what am I going to do with nobody around? And is that all they got against that beast?" It was such a disappointment that Astrid's earlier promises flopped like a fish into a fire.

Someone yawned from in the cabinets. "I'm still here."

"Like I said, nobody." He glanced around the room to find the emptiest piece of white clay wall and stare at it in thought.

"Well, I have no body."

Larkin sighed, slightly smiling. "Marcelino, I think you should worry about if I lose my body, too. Then who's going to listen to you?"

"Naw, Natterkin Guild will keep you safe."

He turned his head down to the small blood droplets on the floor and considered what he could do. The answer came fast and knocked his head up to face the door. "I can't just sit here."

"Hmm, you have a point," Marcelino said, "I'll help, but this female you're talking about better not be crazy like Astrid..."

Standing up made him fall forward thanks to his leg screaming at him to sit back down, but he caught his fall with his hands hitting the ground and limped up with his good leg. He jumped over to the cabinet, pulled on the silver plated knob, and found his bag.

Astrid's claws left their marks in the leather and showed a sliver of the feraligatr's face, but it was suitable to carry over his shoulder.

"You sure? It sounds like you fell."

He pulled it onto his shoulder and stumbled towards the door. "You have a point." He reached into the bag and pulled out the yellow math book. He tossed it onto the counter. "There, weight reduction." Still, reaching that door required a long stride with his good leg, and a brief, painful step with the bad one. He grabbed the doorknob and supported his weight with it before opening.

"Oh, goodness." Marcelino yawned. "Just tell me where you need to go before your leg gets bloody again and I have to listen to screams."

Larkin turned his head down each side of the seemingly endless hallway of white clay and glass ceilings. "To someone who can help." He covered his eyes from the sunlight peering above. For a moment, he wondered how long he had been knocked out, but he shook that thought off.

* * *

"Not a single mon at any desk." Larkin looked around the glass-topped atrium and found each desk empty on the sides of the room. Judging by how the tables were at different heights, every size from pichu to gyarados had to be somewhere in this guild.

"But I'm sure this is the place."

Larkin's leg shot fire into his nerves while he stood there, so he grimaced. "Of course it's the place," Larkin whispered, hoping nobody saw him talking, "It's just that everyone's having lunch." To the rear, he heard the rumble of the cafeteria through the shut doors. "And they even have the drawbridge entrance open right in front of us..." His fist clenched and he shook his head.

"Just because you got off your broken butt doesn't mean the world would."

"Yeah yeah." Larkin rubbed his leg, feeling something shifting under the skin. "Here I am, trying to help my teammate, and the guild's at lunch. Ugh."

Besides the glass above, orange, polished clay structured the atrium. It was at least two meters thick in the walls, and it was much stronger than the glass droplets hanging from an obsidian line that divided the ceiling. Once Larkin observed how polished and sanded every wooden fixture—even the drawbridge and its silver chains—was, he thought, _I thought this was a security guild, not an art studio. Maybe that's why they can't handle whoever Greg is_.

When he wondered if he worry about someone attacking the guild, a flaming horse came into view down the outside path. Since it carried a wagon and potentially spears, Larkin shook his bag and pointed out to the pink flower tree lined road.

"What's that?"

"Just a taxi."

"Ah, good then."

"Psssh, you sound worried."

Larkin glared down into his bag. "I almost screamed walking here, so I'm not comfortable being fragile."

"You're complaining about being fragile?" The image on the cup chuckled.

"Shush, that taxi's almost here."

Now that it tapped its hooves on the bridge, Larkin noticed the pony horn, and the flames all around its light fur. A rapidash, and Larkin now heard his rapid-fire conversation with someone in the back. Larkin barely understood them, but he heard bits about cheese and which type is best to melt and shoot. Nonetheless, Larkin noticed the steel I-beams stacked to the brim in the wagon, and he never thought that a pokémon could tug that much.

"Thank you." A chimchar jumped out and bowed to the horse before untying him from the wagon.

The horse thanked him and sprinted out of the guild.

"Larkin, that's Secretary Jelinek!"

"Huh, about time."

"Talkin' to me?" He glanced over to the monferno and jumped to the back end of the wagon. His hands grabbed and pulled on the beam on the top.

"Yes. I need help, and so will you if you're trying to lift that."

"Relax. I'm not the one with a bloodied leg." The steel beam screeched and the metal slid out of the wagon and onto the small orange monkey's shoulder. He wrapped his arm on it, and walked to pull it out until his shoulder positioned itself at the middle of the red beam.

Larkin thought it was a horrible idea, but when he saw that steel freely float over the floor, his mind changed to amazement. An orange speck held up something many times its own weight. Even better, that chimchar didn't appear muscular, yet he walked away from the wagon as if strolling in the garden.

"Don't worry, monferno, you'll be as strong as me someday." Jelinek smugly smiled and walked towards the hallway Larkin came from.

Larkin gazed away, finding himself embarrassed to be out done by a smaller monkey. A few moments later, his mind got back on track for why he was here, and thoughts of his inferiority had to be buried."Wait. I said I needed help, Jelinek." Larkin extended his arms towards him and waved for him.

He stopped. "Your white collar is clear: You need to go back to your room and rest."

_What the? Well, at least it feel comfortable._ He quickly fiddled his neck and glanced up to Jelinek. "No, let me be clear." He pointed at him. "My friend's in one of those pearls that Greg's about to grab. Is there anything this guild can do?"

"Hmm." He lowered his head and stepped backwards towards a desk. "Yes. And to be _transparent_, it's gonna cost forty gold to make it a worthwhile job posting for how risky and expensive that operation is."

"Forty!" Larkin stepped back in surprise, and regretted it once his leg ached from the pressure. "Ugh, but she's Delilah, and Astrid promised me her security was assured."

He shrugged and laid the steel onto the floor. Patting the top as if it were a seat's cushion, he waved for Larkin to sit, then he jumped over the desk and sat in an armchair. "So you really are Larkin." He titled his head to the side and nodded. "That promise was for her prison conditions—"

"Which failed miserably." Larkin sat on the cold metal and faced the chimchar with a straight face edging towards a frown.

He frowned for a moment and taped his fingers on the arms of the chair. "Damn. This has happened before, but for how short her sentence has been, nobody in her situation ever got more than ten gold coins as reparation."

"Oh." Larkin crossed his arms and huffed. "So now it's thirty gold?"

"Something like that."

Larkin recalled that he was on the Great Mesa, so Toby couldn't be far off. "I know Toby. He can help me sue you and Sword for this screw-up."

"Ooh, that's feisty." He held his hands against his chest and smiled. "You're the only one to care about these POWs, but a lawsuit would be quite a waste of the guild's time. Not to mention what will happen to her once Greg returns her to the West, but I believe settling on ten gold coins is the best to get this over with. Let me see… ah, here, you'll need to sign these."

Jelinek pulled a quill pen and some papers from under the desk, and then set them on the table to Larkin's side.

"But I don't have ten gold." He shook his head. "Look, she needs help right now."

He nodded and glanced away, causing Larkin to lean forward and slap his hand on the desk. Jelinek slapped his hand in front of Larkin and focused on Larkin's eyes.

With a calm voice, he said, "One of my friends may die if they take the job, Larkin, so I suggest paying up, or getting out." The chair creaked and he leaned forward to align his brown eyes closer. Larkin felt smaller with each inch that the face neared him, and he didn't dare speak up to a monkey that could wreck his weak self.

"You should be thankful that our guild will indenture you and allow you to pay off the mission debt. It's a fair deal, an easy deal; one that I've proudly taken before. So, how about it? You willing to commit my friends and your time here?" Leaning back into his chair, he closed his hands together and held them to his heart.

"Uh..." Larkin tapped his fingers on the table and realized that was the final offer. It certainly wouldn't be a short period of time he would be stuck in the guild. What if she was bad? What a waste it would be rescuing her while he was stuck in the guild for months. However, if she was a killer, letting her return to the West didn't seem good for her next victim.

Most of all, if he didn't sign those papers, he would never know.

He picked up the quill pen and pulled the papers towards him. "Yes."

Jelinek sighed and pulled out another quill pen so that he could point out blanks on the contract. "You're a strange monkey. But I'm stranger." He lowered his head and smiled. "You'll see."

Larkin drifted his eyes towards a slice of a cheese wheel at the corner of the desk and nodded. "Uh huh. Time's short—"

"Your care for a suspected killer—"

Anger flushed into Larkin's fist until he heard the fire-type's next words:

"—is nothing like how you knew my name, amnesiac. How'd you know?" He wagged his pen at him and smirked.

"Uh, well..." Larkin darted his eyes around, and his legs and toes curled together in discomfort. Pain shot up his waist for a moment, making him wince. It took a second to find the name plate on the far corner of the desk since it was behind the cheese, but at least the monferno could point to it. "I read your name."

Jelinek nodded, turned his attention to the papers, and wrote. "Ah, of course. Damn good eyesight. I hope the best during your eye exam." He gave a smug smile for a moment before replacing it with a neutral expression.

Larkin smiled. "Sure. Onto the contract here, will you get her out of the Distorted World once..." Meanwhile, Larkin's toes curled tighter and his face almost sweated. _Grea__t. N__ow I'm __in __trouble._

* * *

"I know some good smuggling routes to the West if you need that ten gold quickly."

"Marcelino," Larkin whispered, walking under the pink blossom trees of the guild's gardens, "Don't act concerned about that twelve month servitude maximum he outlined. I mean, my leg already healed, so I bet I can earn that ten gold through the guild in under three months." He raised his head towards the ceiling of flowers and breathed in deeply. It smelled so relaxing, yet his mind kept tracing what life would be like soon.

If the teams didn't succeed, then he had no idea what he would do, but at least he would be able to go anywhere he liked. Maybe somewhere with drier grass.

He laughed, and Larkin heard him slap his knee from inside the bag. "You can't even lift, and you wouldn't kill if your life depended on it."

"Uh." Larkin rubbed his chin. "Well..." He pondered what the guild had in mind and recalled Jelinek mentioned fighting the West after he signed the contract. Still, he was about a thousand two-hundred kilometers away from Meadow Bowl, and even Low Plains Town wasn't that bad.

Oh, right, Greg was cornering a convoy in a nearby dungeon so he could kill them.

Marcelino sighed. "Great, now you're gonna worry. Listen, they can make you a great warrior, so don't fear failing."

A headache came over the monferno, so Larkin shook his head and leaned against a tree. "Warrior?" A pulse shook his mind and forced him to cover his eyes. His neck and shoulders tightened upwards, but he didn't understand why it was happening. His mind presented only a blank emptiness in reply to "warrior" and "killing," but something about those words made his breathes pick up and refuse to acknowledge the pleasant smell.

"Uh, Larkin?"

"It's nothing." He rubbed his forehead and stood up off of the tree. Breathing, he gazed towards the sun and distracted himself with the holly hedges to the side and wondered how someone could trim those plants to look like a wall with long, royal curtains flowing down.

"Just don't go crazy while I'm here."

"Maybe if you didn't make me worry, then that wouldn't happen."

"Don't deny your problems."

"I'm sure it's gonna be okay."

Someone coughed from behind Larkin, so the fire-type turned around and dropped his eyes open. "Ver?"

The blaziken nodded and pulled a leash off of his backpack. "Yep. I've been looking for you. By the way, who were you talking to?" He looked like dirt punched him in the face, and kicked his kidneys, but at least he had another pristine leather backpack.

"Just talking to myself." He crossed his arms. "And you would have found me if you didn't run out of town."

He winced and tightened the leash between his hands. Turning his head towards the ceiling of pink, he said, "Don't be so sour, I rescued Delilah for you."

"Are you high?" Larkin chuckled and kicked his feet against the grassy path.

"No, really." He brought the leash behind his head and cracked his neck. "I knew a secret secondary entrance, so I used it to get ahead of Greg once he entered the primary. The pearls and the convoy are all safe now."

Larkin tapped his elbows and frowned. It had only been an hour, and he wasn't believing any of this until he got to the guild and saw the manectric.

"So how about we join up again?"

"No."

"Aw, that's a shame." Ver took a pink collar decorated with daisies and wagged it at Larkin. "But at least you're my slave now."

"Slave?" Larkin scoffed and stepped back. "I don't believe you. Besides, I did not sign up for slavery," he said, turning his head away from Ver's pet items, "And certainly not for an ugly collar and leash. I'm already wearing this new white one."

"Aw, come on, we don't have to go back to the guild to read the contract." Ver shook his head and squatted down to Larkin. The daisy petals shook by Larkin's cheeks. "Make it easy on yourself and put it on now." He smiled and tilted his head down at Larkin. "You'll look adorable."

He swatted the collar away and walked down the path.

"Fine, be that way." Ver huffed and followed. "But you'll love it. It's like a Saturday night."

"Whoa, whoa. Hush." Larkin flipped his hands at him._ I'm not sure about this, but I hope Ver's right about Delilah and wrong about that dumb collar._ He peeked over his shoulder at the tight band and when he thought of those daisies tickling his throat while Ver held him, he shuddered and jerked his head forward on the path.

* * *

"Get off your cheese and show him." Ver sat cross-legged at Jelinek's desk and rolled the leash onto the table. "I was told he's my slave, and that's my reward. Hell, I deserve an award since I didn't expect one in the first place."

Jelinek raised a finger and swallowed his bite of cheddar. "First off, that's the stupidest collar I've seen." He pointed at Larkin and picked up the contract he had signed earlier. "Second, leashes are banned. Only a plain collar with his name on it can be forced on him."

Ver scowled and leaned forward. When he raised his hand and pointed down at Jelinek, he spoke as if smiting him, "I busted my ass running in that dungeon, saved your guildmates, and—"

Jelinek waved his hand down the paper and let the sunlight from above brighten it. "Sir, let me explain—"

"How the hell is that monkey suppose to pay me back the ten gold without a leash? He'll run off the field."

Because Jelinek slammed the paper on the desk and stood up on his chair, Larkin didn't speak up about how Krauss and Toby paid him over the past weeks. Forty something silver wasn't bad for work and bonus weightlifting, and he _never_ ran off the job. Heck, Ver earned a gold coin by just trading with Blackcade, so when Jelinek opened his mouth. Larkin felt satisfaction and smiled behind the blaziken.

"You are part of my guild now." He waved his hand down and raised his chin. "And as an agent of the guild, I told Larkin what his part of the contract was. By utmost good faith, even if the contract totally enslaved him, my words were the apparent authority," he said, standing taller now that Ver lowered his hand, "Now read it. He's doing no farm work, you damn fool."

"What?" Ver grumbled and crossed his arms. "Astrid promised me—"

"It really shows that you've only been in this guild for an hour." Jelinek rolled his eyes and sat down.

"Yep, yep," Astrid said.

Larkin and Ver jerked their heads around and found that haxorus giggling from behind a clay pillar and clapping her claws together.

"Too bad Ver couldn't get the collar on."

"Wait." Larkin scratched his head. "You gave him the leash and collar to see if he'd put it on me?"

"I had to understand Ver's shortfalls." She stepped onto the open floor and her scales sparkled under the sunlight. "And there's so many that it'd take a year to jump them all. But, hey, that's why I'm your mentor, Ver and Larkin."

Larkin huffed and directed his eyes to the drawbridge exit. "You're off to a horrible start as a mentor. Jelinek." He turned towards him. "New mentor?"

He shrugged. "Maybe next week. Astrid's the only one open to supervise and make sure the debt's being worked off. She'll grow on you."

"Yeah, we'll get along!" Astrid picked her claws over her blades. "But first, pick up that collar and take it away, Larkin."

He nodded and put it in his bag to throw away later. Astrid stepped towards Larkin with a smile between her blades, so he jumped to Jelinek's desk and said, "I don't believe things grow on fire-type. Anyhow, I need to talk to Delilah." When he noticed Ver gazing down at him and clenching the collar, Larkin stepped back from him, too.

"Sure, she's in Cell 049. Visit anytime."

Larkin thanked him and walked as fast as he could to the hall marked CELLS. Before he reached the hall, he stopped, turned back to Ver, and shouted across the atrium, "Aren't you coming to see your teammate?"

Ver waved Larkin off and turned his head away.

Larkin shrugged and walked down the hall.

* * *

Larkin strolled down the white rug hallway and felt put off by the pink on the stone walls and ceiling. Every pokémon he had passed in the guild's halls wore pink scarves, too. At least these strange colors eased his thoughts. Some minutes ago, he couldn't stop thinking about slapping Ver, and now even his breaths relaxed. Besides that, he wondered why every prison cell he passed had a glass front, fresh cookies on top of the drawers inside the cells, and drawers spilling over with toys, books, and paper sheets.

He glanced up and noticed a small opening between the rock ceiling and the glass. Must have been to let air in, and seemed just large enough for Larkin to squeeze through.

Then he looked down and noticed a manectric playing with two pichu dolls around a tiny tea table. However, her neck was chained to the stone wall behind her. She seemed familiar, but her fur was dusty and in need of a bath.

It was clearly Delilah's voice when she said, "Of course, madam." Delilah made the pichu figure bow to the other. "I've been all around the world, and I know more than just the tango."

She smiled and tilted her head. Her voice's pitch greatly increased, and she said, "Oh, do show, George Wickham!" The doll spun around. "I..." She blinked and her eyes turned to Larkin. Her jaw hanged opened, not finishing her speech, and she stared.

Larkin couldn't move. He stared back and darted his eyes to the dolls' painted wooden faces and yarn fur, then to Delilah's eyes. Each moment pained his heart, urging him to speak and get on with what he came here for. With a gulp, he reached to the back of his head and sighed. "So, you play with dolls, huh?"

She smirked and nuzzled one doll. "It's comforting." She sighed and lifted her muzzle off of it. "It's been a long day, and I've heard what you and Ver did. Thank you. I wouldn't know what to do if I were stuck with Greg and Pascal again." Her eyes blinked and she glanced side to side.

"Oh, uh." He rubbed the back of his head and looked down. "Ver didn't want to come."

"Hmm, I see." She adjusted her torso against the rug and dropped the dolls to the table. "I guess that's another matter for later. Anyhow, how's life as a slave?"

"Good so far. Jelinek joked about endless work days ahead." He looked at the pink, wooden doll house to her side and sighed. "But… I can sense it. Ver thinks I wasted life advocating for you."

She waved for Larkin's eyes to come to hers. "So what? What do you think?" She frowned and tapped her claws on the floor. "After all, you probably know that I'm accused of killing pokémon while in the West's army… and my only excuse is that I would have died otherwise." Her eyes lowered and the silence of the cell block awaited Larkin's reply.

_Oh, gee, that's not the easy answer I wanted from her_, he thought, rubbing his chin. Memories of her help in the Distorted World and how she seemed to not follow her ex-teammates. Other recollections of Sentret Forest and her picking him up made him look up at the opening in the cell. Sword would have thought this was a terrible idea, but Larkin jumped to the opening and dropped in front of Delilah.

"Wah, what are you doing?" Delilah whispered, leaning her muzzle towards his head.

He flinched from seeing her wide set of teeth when she talked, but he was still intact. "Well, I think Sword said you wanted to kill me." He scratched the top of his head and saw Delilah raise her eye brows. "But it seems the dolls aren't blowing up."

She smiled and looked down at him with her red eyes. "Wanna know what does kill?" Her jaw poked towards him, breaking his guard.

He gasped his back fell against the powder pink rug. She was twice his height, and much heavier, so her mouth didn't move when he shoved. Before he opened his mouth, her tongue swirled on his sides and forced him to twist and laugh.

"What? AH, ha, ha, stop." Larkin shut his eyes and laughed until her tongue retracted and she smiled down on him. "Why'd you do that again?" He rubbed his head and hid his smile.

"Don't pretend you don't like it. Besides—" Her ears lifted and sounds of stone stomping on the floor echoed down the hall. She whispered, "It's natural for me. Must be a canine thing." She shrugged. "Now hide in the doll house before the guard comes by."

"Sure." He stood up, wiped some of her saliva off, and stuffed himself inbetween the small stairs and a riolu doll. "Also, to answer your question, you're a good dog."

"Glad to hear it." She nodded and stood close by the house to cover Larkin from the view of the guard. Larkin couldn't see who passed by, but the rumbling shook the house he was squeezed into.

Once the footsteps quieted down the hall, Delilah whispered again, "Could you put in a newspaper ad for Blackcade Watchers to support me? They know me. It's one more reason I'm the only one in this cell block while the others are sealed in pearls."

He nodded and later asked her how she would deal with the trial. Before he left, she answered that the lawyer is doing his best, and that he shouldn't worry too much over it. Right. It's hard to not think of something when it's what led him to debt slavery, whatever that would be like.

"By the way." She wiped her tongue on the rug while he walked away. "You taste _and_ smell funny. You and Ver need a bath before coming to my trial."

"Aw, crud." He waved back at her. "See you there."

* * *

Ramos flipped and slashed the water blade out from his tail and up to a rock in Krauss's hand. It whooshed by and sprayed outwards, splattering on the dry grass and on Krauss's chest. Ramos landed and panted onto the flattened green stalks.

"Damn, you cut into it." Krauss squatted down and showed the damp, scar pushing halfway into the rock. "Give it a year, and you'll cut into my hands." He smirked and felt his fingers around the rock, brushing the water off of his palm.

Ramos smiled and wagged his bruised tail. His head lifted towards the sun and he said, "Right. Can we practice that water gun move today, too?"

He titled his head and patted Ramos's back. "Sure thing, little mudkip." The feraligatr stood straight up, casting his shadow over his grandson, and pointed forward. "When the cows come, this is how I wash the bar up."

Before he could express his memory of how smelly that day was, Krauss jerked his arms out, planted his feet into the dry dirt and shook the ground under the little pokémon's feet. His jaw lowered, and his mouth exposed a magnificent ball outshining the sun while it grew and grew until it met both ends of his jaws. His head raised. When Krauss thrusted his head down and forward, Ramos felt a shockwave blow by his gills.

Water blasted down onto the plains, uprooting the deep sod and throwing dust and grass fragments upwards like a train of hay colliding with another. Ramos locked his four legs and stopped himself from falling due to the quake. Soon, the river from Krauss's mouth subsided and his final cough was the last shockwave Ramos felt. The echo subsided and Krauss sighed.

"Hm, wonder how far that one was." Krauss cracked his neck, shut his jaw, and rubbed under his chin.

Ramos held his breath in astonishment. He knew that Krauss could do it, but seeing boulder sized chunks of dirt fly off the ground and crash made him turn towards Krauss and quiver his lips. He wasn't sure of his feelings at the time, but that smile on Krauss's face made Ramos wonder about what he could do when he grew up.

He nodded and said, "Grandpa, could I do that?"

"It'll take a few years if you want to go that path in life." He shrugged and chuckled at his work. "Just let me know what you want."

Ramos heard something rumble in the cloud. "Uh, is that normal?"

"Might be a small earthquake." Krauss shrugged and narrowed his eyes forward. "Damn things have been a worry."

"Oh," an unfamiliar voice said, and knuckles cracked from within the brown mist, "I'm much worse."

Krauss crossed his arms and raised his chin up. "Oh, fuck off, Blackcade… Holy shit."

Ramos and Krauss stepped back and watched two giant tusk blades cut out of the cloud, followed by two red eyes burning down on them. When water dripped off the beast's black and gold scales, Ramos recognized him as a haxorus, and he was a big one. A meter taller than Krauss. Still, he got taller by climbing out of the fresh mud and glaring down on the feraligatr.

"Apologies, sir, I didn't see you in the grass."

He chuckled. "You blew apart my scarf, bags, and everything I wore" He brushed mud and water off his shoulder and shook his tail. Mud splattered off further when he kicked his legs and feet free from the muk. "I'm in a bad mood today, so tell me, does Major Greg sound familiar to you?"

Ramos and Krauss perked their eyes up, and the feraligatr stuttered before saying, "I meant no harm, I can wash you—AH!"

Greg's fist crashed into grandpa's chest. Ramos wasn't sure how this creature moved that fast, but Krauss already began vanishing into white light.

"Stop it! You're pearling him!"

Greg spun a green pearl in his other set of claws and grumbled. "Wash me? What a pile of gator shit. You'll bathe me for as long as you live if you want to survive." When the white lights on Krauss's body vanished, taking him into the orb, Greg frowned and rolled his shoulders.

"You big meanie! Don't ignore me!" He clenched his eyes and stepped forward. Tears already collected around his eyes, and rage made him want to slash him. However, he could barely lift his head high enough to see this beast's face, and that thing had muscles besting his grandpa's.

"Oh, look, he excreted a maggot." Greg turned his back to Ramos and waved backwards. Holding the pearl up, he taunted him, "Flies and maggots, I squish them both, but I'm betting you're gonna humor me by rescuing Krauss someday." He turned around and grinned. "What a precious face. So angry. Perhaps you even envy my strength." He flexed his arms and laughed.

Ramos grumbled and said nothing. He wasn't even sure what he would do, or what he could do. Nonetheless, the hate roared in him at seeing his only real family being taken. A pokémon that he could laugh and train with taken away so quickly, and he knew he had no chance to this smiling demon.

He clenched his feet and spat out a shot of mud from his mouth. Predictably, Greg slapped the bullet of mud back and the disgusting filth ruined Ramos's blue scales. Ramos coughed and lowered his eyes.

"See? A maggot choking on flith." He nodded at him and faced forwards. "Like many other kids I've met, I hope to kill you in front of your family to break them in. It's for the best. It makes them strong. It gives them purpose."

"What are you talking about?" Ramos huffed and lowered his head, feeling the tears drip down his reddened and muddy face. "Give him back! Give him back right now!"

"See ya." He jumped. The liftoff splashed mud and dirt backwards that crashed into Ramos. By the time he struggled out of the mess. Greg vanished from sight, and not even jumping high above the grass could locate a hint of that dragon.

Five hours later, a rescue team found a mudkip crying out grandpa on the wild plains. They scolded him because "There are feral pokémon out there."


End file.
